THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


With  his  rifle  ready  Rob  approached  the  fissure       Page  219 


THE 
WOLF  HUNTERS 


BY 

JAMES  OLIVER  CURWOOD 


McKINLAY,  STONE  &  MACKENZIE 

NEW  YORK 


COPYRIGHT  1908 
COSMOPOLITAN  BOOK  CORPORATION 


Th*  Wolf  En-  ten 


35*05 


To  my  comrades  of  the  great  northern  wilderness, 
those  faithful  companions  with  whom  I  have  shared 
the  joys  and  hardships  of  the  "long  silent  trail," 
and  especially  to  Mukoki,  my  red  guide  and  beloved 
friend,  does  the  writer  gratefully  dedicate  this  volume 


657358 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  FOREST 1 

II  How  WABIGOON  BECAME  A  WHITE  MAN    .       .  21 

III  RODERICK  SEES  THE  FOOTPRINT       .       .       .       .35 

IV  RODERICK'S  FIRST  TASTE  OF  THE  HUNTER'S  LIFE  55 
V  SHOTS  IN   THE   WILDERNESS 80 

VI  MUKOKI  DISTURBS  THE  ANCIENT  SKELETONS         .  97 

VII  RODERICK  DISCOVERS  THE  BUCKSKIN  BAG        .       .  127 

VIII  How  WOLF  BECAME  THE  COMPANION  OF  MEN    .  145 

IX  WOLF  TAKES  VENGEANCE  UPON  His  PEOPLE       .  168 

X  RODERICK  EXPLORES  THE  CHASM    ....  187 

XI  RODERICK'S   DREAM 207 

XII  THE  SECRET  OF  THE  SKELETON'S  HAND       .       .  221 

XIII  SNOWED  IN              • 239 

XIV  THE  RESCUE  OF  WABIGOON            ....  264 
XV  RODERICK  HOLDS  THE  WOONGAS  AT  BAY       .       .  284 

XVI  THE  SURPRISE  AT  THE  POST    .                               .  301 


THE  WOLF  HUNTERS 


THE  WOLF  HUNTERS 

CHAPTER   I 

THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  FOREST 

COLD  winter  lay  deep  in  the  Canadian 
wilderness.  Over  it  the  moon  was  ris- 
ing, like  a  red  pulsating  ball,  lighting 
up  the  vast  white  silence  of  the  night  in  a 
shimmering  glow.  Not  a  sound  broke  the  still- 
ness of  the  desolation.  It  was  too  late  for  the 
life  of  day,  too  early  for  the  nocturnal  roam- 
ings  and  voices  of  the  creatures  of  the  night. 
Like  the  basin  of  a  great  amphitheater  the 
frozen  lake  lay  revealed  in  the  light  of  the 
moon  and  a  billion  stars.  Beyond  it  rose  the 
spruce  forest,  black  and  forbidding.  Along 
its  nearer  edges  stood  hushed  walls  of  tanr 
arack,  bowed  in  the  smothering  clutch  of  snow 
and  ice,  shut  in  by  impenetrable  gloom. 

A  huge  white  owl  flitted  out  of  this  rim  of 
blackness,  then  back  again,  and  its  first  quaver- 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

»ng  hoot  came  sofUy,  as  though  the  mystic  hour 
of  silence  had  not  yet  passed  for  the  night-folk. 
The  snow  of  the  day  had  ceased,  hardly  a 
breath  of  air  stirred  the  ice-coated  twigs  of  the 
trees.  Yet  it  was  bitter  cold — so  cold  that  a 
man,  remaining  motionless,  would  have  frozen 
to  death  within  an  hour. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  break  in  the  silence,  a 
weird,  thrilling  sound,  like  a  great  sigh,  but 
not  human — a  sound  to  make  one's  blood  run 
faster  and  fingers  twitch  on  rifle-stock.  It 
came  from  the  gloom  of  the  tamaracks.  After 
it  there  fell  a  deeper  silence  than  before,  and 
the  owl,  like  a  noiseless  snowflake,  drifted  out 
over  the  frozen  lake.  After  a  few  moments  it 
came  again,  more  faintly  than  before.  One 
versed  in  woodcraft  would  have  slunk  deeper 
into  the  rim  of  blackness,  and  listened,  and 
wondered,  and  watched;  for  in  the  sound  he 
would  have  recognized  the  wild,  half-con- 
quered note  of  a  wounded  beast's  suffering  and 
agony. 

Slowly,  with  all  the  caution  born  of  that 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE   FOREST 

day's  experience,  a  huge  bull  moose  walked 
out  into  the  glow  of  the  moon.  His  magnifi- 
cent head,  drooping  under  the  weight  of  mas- 
sive antlers,  was  turned  inquisitively  across  the 
lake  to  the  north.  His  nostrils  were  distended, 
[his  eyes  glaring,  and  he  left  behind  a  trail  of 
blood.  Half  a  mile  away  he  caught  the  edge 
of  the  spruce  forest.  There  something  told 
him  he  would  find  safety.  A  hunter  would 
have  known  that  he  was  wounded  unto  death 
as  he  dragged  himself  out  into  the  foot-deep 
snow  of  the  lake. 

A  do  jen  rods  out  from  the  tamaracks  he 
stopped,  head  thrown  high,  long  ears  pitched 
forward,  and  nostrils  held  half  to  the  sky.  It 
is  in  this  attitude  that  a  moose  listens  when  he 
hears  a  trout  splash  three-quarters  of  a  mile 
away.  Now  there  was  only  the  vast,  unending 
silence,  broken  only  by  the  mournful  hoot  of 
the  snow  owl  on  the  other  side  of  the  lake. 
Still  the  great  beast  stood  immovable,  a  little 
pool  of  blood  growing  upon  the  snow  under 
his  forward  legs.  What  was  the  mystery  that 
3 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

lurked  in  the  blackness  of  yonder  forest?  Was 
it  danger?  The  keenest  of  human  hearing 
would  have  detected  nothing.  Yet  to  those 
long  slender  ears  of  the  bull  moose,  slanting 
beyond  the  heavy  plates  of  his  horns,  there 
came  a  sound.  The  animal  lifted  his  head  still 
higher  to  the  sky,  sniffed  to  the  east,  to  the 
west,  and  back  to  the  shadows  of  the  tama- 
racks. But  it  was  the  north  that  held  him. 

From  beyond  that  barrier  of  spruce  there 
soon  came  a  sound  that  man  might  have  heard 
— neither  the  beginning  nor  the  end  of  a  wail, 
but  something  like  it.  Minute  by  minute  it 
came  more  clearly,  now  growing  in  volume, 
now  almost  dying  away,  but  every  instant  ap- 
proaching— the  distant  hunting  call  of  the 
wolf-pack!  What  the  hangman's  noose  is  to 
the  murderer,  what  the  leveled  rifles  are  to  the 
condemned  spy,  that  hunt-cry  of  the  wolves  is 
to  the  wounded  animal  of  the  forests. 

Instinct  taught  this  to  the  old  bull.  His 
head  dropped,  his  huge  antlers  leveled  them- 
selves with  his  shoulders,  and  he  set  off  at  a 
4 


THE   FIGHT  IN   THE   FOREST 

slow  trot  toward  the  east.  He  was  taking 
chances  in  thus  crossing  the  open,  but  to  him 
the  spruce  forest  was  home,  and  there  he 
might  find  refuge.  In  his  brute  brain  he  rea* 
soned  that  he  could  get  there  before  the  wolves 
broke  cover.  And  then — 

Again  he  stopped,  so  suddenly  that  his  for- 
ward legs  doubled  under  him  and  he  pitched 
into  the  snow.  This  time,  from  the  direction 
of  the  wolf-pack,  there  came  the  ringing  re- 
port of  a  rifle!  It  might  have  been  a  mile  or 
two  miles  away,  but  distance  did  not  lessen  the 
fear  it  brought  to  the  dying  king  of  the  North. 
That  day  he  had  heard  the  same  sound,  and  it 
had  brought  mysterious  and  weakening  pain 
in  his  vitals.  With  a  supreme  effort  he 
brought  himself  to  his  feet,  once  more  sniffed 
into  the  north,  the  east,  and  the  west,  then 
;urned  and  buried  himself  in  the  black  and 
Jrozen  wilderness  of  tamarack. 

Stillness  fell  again  with  the  sound  of  the 
rifle-shot.  It  might  have  lasted  five  minutes 
or  ten,  when  a  long,  solitary  howl  floated  from 
5 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

across  the  lake.  It  ended  in  the  sharp,  quick 
yelp  of  a  wolf  on  the  trail,  and  an  instant  later 
was  taken  up  by  others,  until  the  pack  was 
once  more  in  full  cry.  Almost  simultaneously 
a  figure  darted  out  upon  the  ice  from  the  edge 
of  the  forest.  A  dozen  paces  and  it  paused  and 
turned  back  toward  the  black  wall  of  spruce. 

"Are  you  coming,  Wabi?" 

A  voice  answered  from  the  woods.  "Yes. 
Hurry  up — run  1" 

Thus  urged,  the  other  turned  his  face  once 
^ore  across  the  lake.  He  was  a  youth  of  not 
more  than  eighteen.  In  his  right  hand  he  car- 
ried a  club.  His  left  arm,  as  if  badly  injured, 
was  done  up  in  a  sling  improvised  from  a 
lumberman's  heavy  scarf.  His  face  was 
scratched  and  bleeding,  and  his  whole  appear- 
ance  showed  that  he  was  nearing  complete  ex- 
haustion. For  a  few  moments  he  ran  through 
the  snow,  then  halted  to  a  staggering  walk. 
His  breath  came  in  painful  gasps.  The  club 
slipped  from  his  nerveless  fingers,  and  con- 
scious of  the  deathly  weakness  that  was  over- 
6 


THE   FIGHT   IN   THE   FORES1 

coming  him  he  did  not  attempt  to  regain  it 
Foot  by  foot  he  struggled  on,  until  suddenly 
his  knees  gave  way  under  him  and  he  sank 
down  into  the  snow. 

From  the  edge  of  the  spruce  forest  a  young 
Indian  now  ran  out  upon  the  surface  of  the 
lake.  His  breath  was  coming  quickly,  but 
with  excitement  rather  than  fatigue.  Behind 
him,  less  than  half  a  mile  away,  he  could  hear 
the  rapidly  approaching  cry  of  the  hunt-pack, 
and  for  an  instant  he  bent  his  lithe  form  close 
to  the  snow,  measuring  with  the  acuteness  of 
his  race  the  distance  of  the  pursuers.  Then  he 
looked  for  his  white  companion,  and  failed  to 
see  the  motionless  blot  that  marked  where  the 
other  had  fallen.  A  look  of  alarm  shot  into 
his  eyes,  and  resting  his  rifle  between  his  knees 
he  placed  his  hands,  trumpet  fashion,  to  his 
mouth  and  gave  a  signal  call  which,  on  a  still 
night  like  this,  carried  for  a  mile. 
"Wa-hoo-o-o-o-o-o !  Wa-hoo-o-o-o-o-o !" 
At  that  cry  the  exhausted  boy  in  the  snow 
staggered  to  his  feet,  and  with  an  answering 
7 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

shout  which  came  but  faintly  to  the  ears  of  the 
Indian,  resumed  his  flight  across  the  lake. 
Two  or  three  minutes  later  Wabi  came  up  be- 
side him. 

"Can  you  make  it,  Rod?"  he  cried. 

The  other  made  an  effort  to  answer,  but  his 
reply  was  hardly  more  than  a  gasp.  Before 
Wabi  could  reach  out  to  support  him  he  had 
lost  his  little  remaining  strength  and  fallen 
for  a  second  time  into  the  snow. 

"I'm  afraid— I— can't  do  it— Wabi,"  he 
whispered.  "I'm — bushed — " 

The  young  Indian  dropped  his  rifle  and 
knelt  beside  the  wounded  boy,  supporting  his 
head  against  his  own  heaving  shoulders. 

"It's  only  a  little  farther,  Rod,"  he  urged. 
"We  can  make  it,  and  take  to  a  tree.  We  ought 
to  have  taken  to  a  tree  back  there,  but  I  didn't 
know  that  you  were  so  far  gone ;  and  there  was 
a  good  chance  to  make  camp,  with  three  car- 
tridges left  for  the  open  lake." 

"Only  three!" 

"That's  all,  but  I  ought  to  make  two  of  them 
8 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  FOREST 

count  in  this  light.  Here,  take  hold  of  my 
shoulders!  Quick!" 

He  doubled  himself  like  a  jack-knife  in 
front  of  his  half-prostrate  companion.  From 
behind  them  there  came  a  sudden  chorus  of 
the  wolves,  louder  and  clearer  than  before. 

"They've  hit  the  open  and  we'll  have  them 
on  the  lake  inside  of  two  minutes,"  he  cried. 
"Give  me  your  arms,  Rod!  There!  Can  you 
hold  the  gun?" 

He  straightened  himself,  staggering  under 
the  other's  weight,  and  set  off  on  a  half-trot 
for  the  distant  tamaracks.  Every  muscle  in 
his  powerful  young  body  was  strained  to  its 
utmost  tension.  Even  more  fully  than  his  help- 
less burden  did  he  realize  the  peril  at  their 
backs. 

Three  minutes,  four  minutes  more,  and 
then — 

A  terrible  picture  burned  in  Wabi's  brain, 
a  picture  he  had  carried  from  boyhood  of  an- 
other child,  torn  and  mangled  before  his  very 
eyes  by  these  outlaws  of  the  North,  and  he 
9 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

shuddered.  Unless  he  sped  those  three  remain- 
ing bullets  true,  unless  that  rim  of  tamaracks 
was  reached  in  time,  he  knew  what  their  fate 
would  be.  There  flashed  into  his  mind  one 
last  resource.  He  might  drop  his  wounded 
companion  and  find  safety  for  himself.  But  it 
was  a  thought  that  made  Wabi  smile  grimly. 
This  was  not  the  first  time  that  these  two  had 
risked  their  lives  together,  and  that  very  day 
Roderick  had  fought  valiantly  for  the  other, 
and  had  been  the  one  to  suffer.  If  they  died, 
it  would  be  in  company.  Wabi  made  up  his 
mind  to  that  and  clutched  the  other's  arms  in 
a  firmer  grip.  He  was  pretty  certain  that  death 
faced  them  both.  They  might  escape  the 
wolves,  but  the  refuge  of  a  tree,  with  the  vo- 
racious pack  on  guard  below,  meant  only  a 
more  painless  end  by  cold.  Still,  while  there 
was  life  there  was  hope,  and  he  hurried  or* 
through  the  snow,  listening  for  the  wolves  be- 
hind him  and  with  each  moment  feeling  more 
keenly  that  his  own  powers  of  endurance  were 
rapidly  reaching  an  end. 
10 


THE   FIGHT   IN   THE   FOREST 

For  some  reason  that  Wabi  could  not  ex- 
plain the  hunt-pack  had  ceased  to  give  tongue. 
Not  only  the  allotted  two  minutes,  but  five  of 
them,  passed  without  the  appearance  of  the 
animals  on  the  lake.  Was  it  possible  that  they 
had  lost  the  trail?  Then  it  occurred  to  the  In- 
dian that  perhaps  he  had  wounded  one  of  the 
pursuers,  and  that  the  others,  discovering  his 
injury,  had  set  upon  him  and  were  now  par- 
ticipating in  one  of  the  cannibalistic  feasts 
that  had  saved  them  thus  far.  Hardly  had  he 
thought  of  this  possibility  when  he  was  thrilled 
by  a  series  of  long  howls,  and  looking  back  he 
discerned  a  dozen  or  more  dark  objects  mov- 
ing swiftly  over  their  trail. 

Not  an  eighth  of  a  mile  ahead  was  the  tam- 
arack forest.  Surely  Rod  could  travel  that 
distance! 

"Run  for  it,  Rod!"  he  cried.  "You're  rested 
now.  I'll  stay  here  and  stop  'em!" 

He  loosened  the  other's  arms,  and  as  he  did 
so  his  rifle  fell  from  the  white  boy's  nerveless 
grip  and  buried  itself  in  the  snow.  As  he  re- 
U 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

lieved  himself  of  his  burden  he  saw  for  the 
first  time  the  deathly  pallor  and  partly  closed 
eyes  of  his  companion.  With  a  new  terror  fill- 
ing his  own  faithful  heart  he  knelt  beside  the 
form  which  lay  so  limp  and  lifeless,  his  blaz- 
ing eyes  traveling  from  the  ghastly  face  to  the 
oncoming  wolves,  his  rifle  ready  in  his  hands. 
He  could  now  discern  the  wolves  trailing  out 
from  the  spruce  forest  like  ants.  A  dozen  of 
them  were  almost  within  rifle-shot.  Wabi  knew 
that  it  was  with  this  vanguard  of  the  pack  that 
he  must  deal  if  he  succeeded  in  stopping  the 
scores  behind.  Nearer  and  nearer  he  allowed 
them  to  come,  until  the  first  were  scarce  two 
hundred  feet  away.  Then,  with  a  sudden 
shout,  the  Indian  leaped  to  his  feet  and  dashed 
fearlessly  toward  them.  This  unexpected 
move,  as  he  had  intended,  stopped  the  fore- 
most wolves  in  a  huddled  group  for  an  instant, 
and  in  this  opportune  moment  Wabi  leveled 
his  gun  and  fired.  A  long  howl  of  pain  testi- 
fied to  the  effect  of  the  shot.  Hardly  had  it 
begun  when  Wabi  fired  again,  this  time  wid> 
12 


THE    FIGHT   IN   THE   FOREST 

such  deadly  precision  that  one  of  the  wolves, 
springing  high  into  the  air,  tumbled  back  life- 
less among  the  pack  without  so  much  as  mak- 
ing a  sound. 

Running  to  the  prostrate  Roderick,  Wabi 
drew  him  quickly  upon  his  back,  clutched  his 
rifle  in  the  grip  of  his  arm,  and  started  again 
for  the  tamaracks.  Only  once  did  he  look 
back,  and  then  he  saw  the  wolves  gathering  in 
a  snarling,  fighting  crowd  about  their  slaugh- 
tered comrades.  Not  until  he  had  reached  the 
shelter  of  the  tamaracks  did  the  Indian  youth 
lay  down  his  burden,  and  then  in  his  own  ex- 
haustion he  fell  prone  upon  the  snow,  his 
black  eyes  fixed  cautiously  upon  the  feasting 
pack.  A  few  minutes  later  he  discerned  dark 
spots  appearing  here  and  there  upon  the 
whiteness  of  the  snow,  and  at  these  signs  of  the 
termination  of  the  feast  he  climbed  up  into 
the  low  branches  of  a  spruce  and  drew  Roder- 
ick after  him.  Not  until  then  did  the  wounded 
boy  show  visible  signs  of  life.  Slowly  he  re- 
covered from  the  faintness  which  had  over- 
13 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

powered  him,  and  after  a  little,  with  some 
assistance  from  Wabi,  was  able  to  place  him- 
self safely  on  a  higher  limb. 

"That's  the  second  time,  Wabi,"  he  said, 
reaching  a  hand  down  affectionately  to  the 
other's  shoulder.  "Once  from  drowning,  once 
from  the  wolves.  I've  got  a  lot  to  even  up  with 
you!" 

"Not  after  what  happened  to-day!" 
The  Indian's  dusky  face  was  raised  until 
the  two  were  looking  into  each  other's  eyes, 
with  a  gaze  of  love  and  trust.  Only  a  moment 
thus,  and  instinctively  their  glance  turned  to- 
ward the  lake.  The  wolf-pack  was  in  plain 
view.  It  was  the  biggest  pack  that  Wabi,  in 
all  his  life  in  the  wilderness,  had  ever  seen,  and 
he  mentally  figured  that  there  were  at  least 
half  a  hundred  animals  in  it.  Like  ravenous 
dogs  after  having  a  few  scraps  of  meat  flung 
among  them,  the  wolves  were  running  about, 
nosing  here  and  there,  as  if  hoping  to  find  a 
morsel  that  might  have  escaped  discovery. 
Then  one  of  them  stopped  on  the  trail  and, 


THE   FIGHT   IN   THE   FOREST 

throwing  himself  half  on  his  haunches,  with 
his  head  turned  to  the  sky  like  a  baying  hound, 
started  the  hunt-cry. 

"There's  two  packs.  I  thought  it  was  too 
big  for  one,"  exclaimed  the  Indian.  "See! 
Part  of  them  are  taking  up  the  trail  and  the 
others  are  lagging  behind  gnawing  the  bones 
of  the  dead  wolf.  Now  if  we  only  had  our 
ammunition  and  the  other  gun  those  murder- 
ers got  away  from  us,  we'd  make  a  fortune. 
What—" 

Wabi  stopped  with  a  suddenness  that  spoke 
volumes,  and  the  supporting  arm  that  he  had 
thrown  around  Rod's  waist  tightened  until  it 
caused  the  wounded  youth  to  flinch.  Both  boys 
stared  in  rigid  silence.  The  wolves  were 
crowding  around  a  spot  in  the  snow  half-way 
between  the  tamarack  refuge  and  the  scene  of 
the  recent  feast.  The  starved  animals  betrayed 
unusual  excitement.  They  had  struck  the  pool 
of  blood  and  red  trail  made  by  the  dying 
moose! 

"What  is  it,  Wabi?"  whispered  Rod. 
15 


THE   WOLF  HUNTERS 

The  Indian  did  not  answer.  His  black  eyes 
gleamed  with  a  new  fire,  his  lips  were  parted 
in  anxious  anticipation,  and  he  seemed  hardly 
to  breathe  in  his  tense  interest.  The  wounded 
boy  repeated  his  question,  and  as  i*  in  reply 
the  pack  swerved  to  the  west  and  in  a  black, 
silent  mass  swept  in  a  direction  that  would 
bring  them  into  the  tamaracks  a  hundred 
yards  from  the  young  hunters. 

"A  new  trail!"  breathed  Wabi.  "A  new 
trail,  and  a  hot  one!  Listen!  They  make  no 
sound.  It  is  always  that  way  when  they  are 
dose  to  a  kill!" 

As  they  looked  the  last  of  the  wolves  disap- 
peared in  the  forest.  For  a  few  moments  there 
•was  silence,  then  a  chorus  of  howls  came  from 
deep  in  the  woods  behind  them. 

"Now  is  our  chance,"  cried  the  Indian. 
"They've  broken  again,  and  their  game — " 

He  had  partly  slipped  from  his  limb,  with- 
drawing his  supporting  arm  from  Rod's  waist, 
and  was  about  to  descend  to  the  ground  when 
the  pack  again  turned  in  their  direction.  A 
16 


THE   FIGHT   IN   THE   FOREST 

heavy  crashing  in  the  underbrush  not  a  dozen 
rods  away  sent  Wabi  in  a  hurried  scramble  for 
his  perch. 

"Quick — higher  up!"  he  warned  excitedly. 
"They're  coming  out  here — right  under  us! 
If  we  can  get  up  so  that  they  can't  see  us,  or 
smell  us — " 

The  words  were  scarcely  out  of  his  mouth 
when  a  huge  shadowy  bulk  rushed  past  them 
not  more  than  fifty  feet  from  the  spruce  in 
which  they  had  sought  refuge.  Both  of  the 
boys  recognized  it  as  a  bull  moose,  though  it 
did  not  occur  to  either  of  them  that  it  was  the 
same  animal  at  which  Wabi  had  taken  a  long 
shot  that  same  day  a  couple  of  miles  back.  In 
close  pursuit  came  the  ravenous  pack.  Their 
heads  hung  close  to  the  bloody  trail,  hungry, 
snarling  cries  coming  from  between  their  gap- 
ing jaws,  they  swept  across  the  little  opening 
almost  at  the  young  hunters'  feet.  It  was  a 
sight  which  Rod  had  never  expected  to  see, 
and  one  which  held  even  the  more  experienced 
Wabi  fascinated.  Not  a  sound  fell  from  either 
17 


THE    WOLF    HUNTERS 

of  the  youths'  lips  as  they  stared  down  upon 
the  fierce,  hungry  outlaws  of  the  wilderness. 
To  Wabi  this  near  view  of  the  pack  told  a 
fateful  story;  to  Rod  it  meant  nothing  more 
than  the  tragedy  about  to  be  enacted  before 
his  eyes.  The  Indian's  keen  vision  saw  in  the 
white  moonlight  long,  thin  bodies,  starved  al- 
most to  skin  and  bone;  to  his  companion  the 
onrushing  pack  seemed  filled  only  with  agile, 
powerful  beasts,  maddened  to  almost  fiendish 
exertions  by  the  nearness  of  their  prey. 

In  a  flash  they  were  gone,  but  in  that  mo- 
ment of  their  passing  there  was  painted  a  pic- 
ture to  endure  a  lifetime  in  the  memory  of 
Roderick  Drew.  And  it  was  to  be  followed 
by  one  even  more  tragic,  even  more  thrilling. 
To  the  dazed,  half-fainting  young  hunter  it 
seemed  but  another  instant  before  the  pack 
overhauled  the  old  bull.  He  saw  the  doomed 
monster  turn,  in  the  stillness  heard  the  snap- 
ping of  jaws,  the  snarling  of  hunger-crazed 
animals,  and  a  sound  that  might  have  been  a 
great,  heaving  moan  or  a  dying  bellow.  In 
18 


THE   FIGHT   IN   THE    FOREST 

Wabi's  veins  the  blood  danced  with  the  ex- 
citement that  stirred  his  forefathers  to  battle. 
Not  a  line  of  the  tragedy  that  was  being  en- 
acted before  his  eyes  escaped  this  native  son 
of  the  wilderness.  It  was  a  magnificent  fight! 
He  knew  that  the  old  bull  would  die  by  inches 
in  the  one-sided  duel,  and  that  when  it  was 
over  there  would  be  more  than  one  carcass 
for  the  survivors  to  gorge  themselves  upon. 
Quietly  he  reached  up  and  touched  his  com- 
panion. 

"Now  is  our  time,"  he  said.  "Come  on — 
still — and  on  this  side  of  the  tree!" 

He  slipped  down,  foot  by  foot,  assisting 
Rod  as  he  did  so,  and  when  both  had  reached 
the  ground  he  bent  over  as  before,  that  the 
other  might  get  upon  his  back. 

"I  can  make  it  alone,  Wabi,"  whispered  the 
wounded  boy.  "Give  me  a  lift  on  the  arm, 
will  you?" 

With  the  Indian's  arm  about  his  waist,  the 
two  set  off  into  the  tamaracks.  Fifteen  min- 
utes later  they  came  to  the  bank  of  a  small 
19 


THE  WOLF   HUNTERS 

frozen  river.  On  the  opposite  side  of  this,  a 
hundred  yards  down,  was  a  sight  which  both, 
as  if  by  a  common  impulse,  welcomed  with  a 
glad  cry.  Close  to  the  shore,  sheltered  by  t 
dense  growth  of  spruce,  was  a  bright  camp- 
fire.  In  response  to  Wabi's  far-reaching 
whoop  a  shadowy  figure  appeared  in  the  glow 
and  returned  the  shout. 

"Mukoki!"  cried  the  Indian. 

"Mukoki!"  laughed  Rod,  happy  that  the 
end  was  near. 

Even  as  he  spoke  he  swayed  dizzily,  and 
Wabi  dropped  his  gun  that  he  might  keep  hif 
nr«npanion  from  falling  into  the  snow. 


CHAPTER   II 

How  WABIGOON  BECAME  A  WHITE  MAN 

HAD  the  young  hunters  the  power  of 
looking  into  the  future,  their  camp- 
fire  that  night  on  the  frozen  Omba- 
bika  might  have  been  one  of  their  last,  and  a 
few  days  later  would  have  seen  them  back  on 
the  edges  of  civilization.  Possibly,  could  they 
have  foreseen  the  happy  culmination  of  the 
adventures  that  lay  before  them,  they  would 
still  have  gone  on,  for  the  love  of  excitement 
is  strong  in  the  heart  of  robust  youth.  But 
this  power  of  discernment  was  denied  them, 
and  only  in  after  years,  with  the  loved  ones  of 
their  own  firesides  close  about  them,  was  the 
whole  picture  revealed.  And  in  those  days, 
when  they  would  gather  with  their  families 
about  the  roaring  logs  of  winter  and  live  over 
again  their  early  youth,  they  knew  that  all  the 

21 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

gold  in  the  world  would  not  induce  them  to 
part  with  their  memories  of  the  life  that  had 
gone  before. 

A  little  less  than  thirty  years  previous  to  the 
time  of  which  we  write,  a  young  man  named 
John  Newsome  left  the  great  city  of  London 
for  the  New  World.  Fate  had  played  a  hard 
game  with  young  Newsome — had  first  robbed 
him  of  both  parents,  and  then  in  a  single  fitful 
turn  of  her  wheel  deprived  him  of  what  little 
property  he  had  inherited.  A  little  later  he 
came  to  Montreal,  and  being  a  youth  of  good 
education  and  considerable  ambition,  he  easily 
secured  a  position  and  worked  himself  into 
the  confidence  of  his  employers,  obtaining  an 
appointment  as  factor  at  Wabinosh  House,  a 
Post  deep  in  the  wilderness  of  Lake  Nipigon. 

In  the  second  year  of  his  reign  at  Wabinosh 
— a  factor  is  virtually  king  in  his  domain — 
there  came  to  the  Post  an  Indian  chief  named 
Wabigoon,  and  with  him  his  daughter,  Min- 
netaki,  in  honor  of  whose  beauty  and  virtue  a 
town  was  named  in  after  years.  Minnetaki 

22 


WABIGOOW 

was  just  budding  into  the  early  womanhood  ot 
her  race,  and  possessed  a  beauty  seldom  seen 
among  Indian  maidens.  If  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  love  at  first  sight,  it  sprang  into  ex- 
istence the  moment  John  Newsome's  eyes  tell 
upon  this  lovely  princess.  Thereafter  his 
visits  to  Wabigoon's  village,  thirty  miles 
deeper  in  the  wilderness,  were  of  frequent  oc- 
currence. From  the  beginning  Minnetaki  re- 
turned the  young  factor's  affections,  but 
a  most  potent  reason  prevented  their  mar- 
riage. For  a  long  time  Minnetaki  had 
been  ardently  wooed  by  a  powerful  young 
chief  named  Woonga,  whom  she  cordially  de- 
tested, but  upon  whose  favor  and  friendship 
depended  the  existence  of  her  father's  sway 
over  his  hunting-grounds. 

With  the  advent  of  the  young  factor  the  bit- 
terest rivalry  sprang  up  between  the  two  suit- 
ors, which  resulted  in  two  attempts  upon  New- 
some's  life,  and  an  ultimatum  sent  by  Woonga 
to  Minnetaki's  father.  Minnetaki  herself  re- 
plied to  this  ultimatum.  It  was  a  reply  that 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Stirred  the  fires  of  hatred  and  revenge  to  fevei 
heat  in  Woonga's  breast.  One  dark  night,  at 
the  head  of  a  score  of  his  tribe,  he  fell  upon 
Wabigoon's  camp,  his  object  being  the  abduc- 
tion of  the  princess.  While  the  attack  was 
successful  in  a  way,  its  main  purpose  failed. 
Wabigoon  and  ~  dozen  of  his  tribesmen  were 
slain,  but  in  the  end  Woonga  was  driven  off. 

A  swift  messenger  brought  news  of  the  at- 
tack and  of  the  old  chief's  death  to  Wabinosh 
House,  and  with  a  dozen  men  Newsome  has- 
tened to  the  assistance  of  his  betrothed  and  her 
people.  A  counter  attack  was  made  upon 
Woonga  and  he  was  driven  deep  into  the  wil- 
derness with  great  loss.  Three  days  later  Min- 
netaki  became  Newsome's  wife  at  the  Hudson 
Bay  Post. 

From  that  hour  dated  one  of  the  most  san- 
guinary feuds  in  the  history  of  the  great  trad* 
ing  company;  a  feud  which,  as  we  shall  see, 
was  destined  to  live  even  unto  the  second  gen- 
eration. 

Woonga  and  his  tribe  now  became  no  bet- 
24 


WABIGOON 

ter  than  outlaws,  and  preyed  so  effectively 
upon  the  remnants  of  the  dead  Wabigoon's 
people  that  the  latter  were  almost  exterminat- 
ed. Those  who  were  left  moved  to  the  vicin- 
ity of  the  Post.  Hunters  from  Wabinosh 
House  were  ambushed  and  slain.  Indians 
who  came  to  the  Post  to  trade  were  regarded 
as  enemies,  and  the  passing  of  years  seemed  to 
make  but  little  difference.  The  feud  still  ex- 
isted. The  outlaws  came  to  be  spoken  of  as 
"Woongas,"  and  a  Woonga  was  regarded  as 
a  fair  target  for  any  man's  rifle. 

Meanwhile  two  children  came  to  bless  the 
happy  union  of  Newsome  and  his  lovely  In- 
dian wife.  One  of  these,  the  eldest,  was  a 
boy,  and  in  honor  of  the  old  chief  he  was 
named  Wabigoon,  and  called  Wabi  for  short. 
The  other  was  a  girl,  three  years  younger,  and 
Newsome  insisted  that  she  be  called  Minne- 
taki.  Curiously  enough,  the  blood  of  Wabi 
ran  almost  pure  to  his  Indian  forefathers, 
while  Minnetaki,  as  she  became  older,  devel- 
oped less  of  the  wild  beauty  of  her  mother 
25 


THE  WOLF   HUNTERS 

and  more  of  the  softer  loveliness  of  the  white 
race,  her  wealth  of  soft,  jet  black  hair  and  her 
great  dark  eyes  contrasting  with  the  lighter 
skin  of  her  father's  blood.  Wabi,  on  the  other 
hand,  was  an  Indian  in  appearance  from  his 
moccasins  to  the  crown  of  his  head,  swarthy, 
sinewy,  as  agile  as  a  lynx,  and  with  every  in- 
stinct in  him  crying  for  the  life  of  the  wild. 
Yet  born  in  him  was  a  Caucasian  shrewdness 
and  intelligence  that  reached  beyond  the  fac- 
tor himself. 

One  of  Newsome's  chief  pleasures  in  life 
had  been  the  educating  of  his  woodland  bride, 
and  it  was  the  ambition  of  both  that  the  little 
Minnetaki  and  her  brother  be  reared  in  the 
ways  of  white  children.  Consequently  both 
mother  and  father  began  their  education  at 
the  Post;  they  were  sent  to  the  factor's  school 
and  two  winters  were  passed  in  Port  Arthur 
that  they  might  have  the  advantage  of  thor- 
oughly equipped  schools.  The  children 
proved  themselves  unusually  bright  pupils, 
and  by  the  time  Wabi  was  sixteen  and  Minne- 
26 


WABIGOON 

taki  twelve  one  would  not  have  known  from 
their  manner  of  speech  that  Indian  blood  ran 
in  their  veins.  Yet  both,  by  the  common  de- 
sire of  their  parents,  were  familiar  with  the 
life  of  the  Indian  and  could  talk  fluently  the 
tongue  of  their  mother's  people. 

It  was  at  about  this  time  in  their  lives  that 
the  Woongas  became  especially  daring  in 
their  depredations.  These  outlaws  no  longer 
pretended  to  earn  their  livelihood  by  honest 
means,  but  preyed  upon  trappers  and  other 
Indians  without  discrimination,  robbing  and 
killing  whenever  safe  opportunities  offered 
themselves.  The  hatred  for  the  people  of  Wa- 
binosh  House  became  hereditary,  and  the 
Woonga  children  grew  up  with  it  in  their 
hearts.  The  real  cause  of  the  feud  had  been 
forgotten  by  many,  though  not  by  Woonga 
himself.  At  last  so  daring  did  he  become  that 
the  provincial  government  placed  a  price 
upon  his  head  and  upon  those  of  a  number  of 
his  most  notorious  followers.  For  a  time  the 
outlaws  were  driven  from  the  country,  but 
27 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

the  bloodthirsty  chief  himself  could  not  be 
captured. 

When  Wabi  was  seventeen  years  of  age  it 
was  decided  that  he  should  be  sent  to  some  big 
school  in  the  States  for  a  year.  Against  this 
plan  the  young  Indian — nearly  all  people  re- 
garded him  as  an  Indian,  and  Wabi  was  proud 
of  the  fact — fought  with  all  of  the  arguments 
at  his  command.  He  loved  the  wilds  with 
the  passion  of  his  mother's  race.  His  nature 
revolted  at  the  thoughts  of  a  great  city  with  its 
crowded  streets,  its  noise,  and  bustle,  and  dirt. 
It  was  then  that  Minnetaki  pleaded  with  him, 
begged  him  to  go  for  just  one  year,  and  to 
come  back  and  tell  her  of  all  he  had  seen  and 
teach  her  what  he  had  learned.  Wabi  loved 
his  beautiful  little  sister  beyond  anything  else 
on  earth,  and  it  was  she  more  than  his  parents 
>vho  finally  induced  him  to  go. 

For  three  months  Wabi  devoted  himself 

faithfully  to  his  studies  in  Detroit.    But  each 

week  added  to  his  loneliness  and  his  longings 

for  Minnetaki  and  his  forests.    The  passing 

28 


WABIGOON 

of  each  day  became  a  painful  task  to  him.  To 
Minnetaki  he  wrote  three  times  each  week, 
and  three  times  each  week  the  little  maiden  at 
Wabinosh  House  wrote  long,  cheering  letters, 
to  her  brother — though  they  came  to  Wabi 
only  about  twice  a  month,  because  only  so 
often  did  the  mail-carrier  go  out  from  the 
Post. 

It  was  at  this  time  in  his  lonely  school  life 
that  Wabigoon  became  acquainted  with  Rod- 
erick Drew.  Roderick,  even  as  Wabi  fancied 
himself  to  be  just  at  this  time,  was  a  child  of 
misfortune.  His  father  had  died  before  he 
could  remember,  and  the  property  he  had  left 
had  dwindled  slowly  away  during  the  passing 
of  years.  Rod  was  spending  his  last  week  in 
school  when  he  met  Wabigoon.  Necessity  had 
become  his  grim  master,  and  the  following 
week  he  was  going  to  work.  As  the  boy  de- 
scribed the  situation  to  his  Indian  friend,  his 
mother  "had  fought  to  the  last  ditch  to  keep 
him  in  school,  but  now  his  time  was  up." 
Wabi  seized  upon  the  white  youth  as  an  oasis 
29 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

in  a  vast  desert.  After  a  little  the  two  became 
almost  inseparable,  and  their  friendship 
culminated  in  Wabi's  going  to  live  in  the 
Drew  home.  Mrs.  Drew  was  a  woman  of 
education  and  refinement,  and  her  interest  in 
Wabigoon  was  almost  that  of  a  mother.  In 
this  environment  the  ragged  edges  were 
smoothed  away  from  the  Indian  boy's  deport- 
ment, and  his  letters  to  Minnetaki  were  more 
and  more  filled  with  enthusiastic  descriptions 
of  his  new  friends.  After  a  little  Mrs.  Drew 
received  a  grateful  letter  of  thanks  from  the 
princess  mother  at  Wabinosh  House,  and  thus 
a  pleasant  correspondence  sprang  up  between 
the  two. 

There  were  now  few  lonely  hours  for  the  two 
boys.  During  the  long  winter  evenings,  when 
Roderick  was  through  with  his  day's  work 
and  Wabi  had  completed  his  studies,  they 
would  sit  before  the  fire  and  the  Indian  youth 
would  describe  the  glorious  life  of  the  vast 
northern  wilderness;  and  day  by  day,  and 
week  by  week,  there  steadily  developed  within 
30 


WABIGOON 

Rod's  breast  a  desire  to  see  and  live  that  life. 
A  thousand  plans  were  made,  a  thousand  ad- 
ventures pictured,  and  the  mother  would  smile 
and  laugh  and  plan  with  them. 

But  in  time  the  end  of  it  all  came,  and  Wabi 
went  back  to  the  princess  mother,  to  Minne- 
taki,  and  to  his  forests.  There  were  tears  in 
the  boys'  eyes  when  they  parted,  and  the 
mother  cried  for  the  Indian  boy  who  was  re- 
turning to  his  people.  Many  of  the  days  that 
followed  were  painful  to  Roderick  Drew. 
Eight  months  had  bred  a  new  nature  in  him, 
and  when  Wabi  left  it  was  as  if  a  part  of  his 
own  life  had  gone  with  him.  Spring  came 
and  passed,  and  then  summer.  Every  mail 
from  Wabinosh  House  brought  letters  for  the 
Drews,  and  never  did  an  Indian  courier  drop 
a  pack  at  the  Post  that  did  not  carry  a  bundle 
of  letters  for  Wabigoon. 

Then  in  the  early  autumn,  when  September 
frosts  were  turning  the  leaves  of  the  North  to 
red  and  gold,  there  came  the  long  letter  from 
Wabi  which  brought  joy,  excitement  and  mi?- 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

giving  into  the  little  home  of  the  mother  and 
her  son.  It  was  accompanied  by  one  from  the 
factor  himself,  another  from  the  princess 
mother,  and  by  a  tiny  note  from  Minnetaki. 
who  pleaded  with  the  others  that  Roderick 
and  Mrs.  Drew  might  spend  the  winter  with 
them  at  Wabinosh  House. 

"You  need  not  fear  about  losing  your  posi- 
tion," wrote  Wabigoon.  "We  shall  make  more 
money  up  here  this  winter  than  you  could  earn 
in  Detroit  in  three  years.  We  will  hunt 
wolves.  The  country  is  alive  with  them,  and 
the  government  gives  a  bounty  of  fifteen  dol- 
lars for  every  scalp  taken.  Two  winters  ago 
I  killed  forty  and  I  did  not  make  a  business 
of  it  at  that.  I  have  a  tame  wolf  which  we 
use  as  a  decoy.  Don't  bother  about  a  gun  or 
anything  like  that.  We  have  everything  here." 

For  several  days  Mrs.  Drew  and  her  son 
deliberated  upon  the  situation  before  a  repl} 
was  sent  to  the  Newsomes.  Roderick  pleaded, 
pictured  the  glorious  times  they  would  have, 
the  health  that  it  would  give  them,  and  mar* 
32 


WABIGOON 

shaled  in  a  dozen  different  ways  his  argu- 
ments in  favor  of  accepting  the  invitation.  On 
the  other  hand,  his  mother  was  filled  with 
.doubt.  Their  finances  were  alarmingly  low, 
and  Rod  would  be  giving  up  a  sure  though 
small  income,  which  was  now  supporting  them 
comfortably.  His  future  was  bright,  and  that 
winter  would  see  him  promoted  to  ten  dollars 
a  week  in  the  mercantile  house  where  he  was 
employed.  In  the  end  they  came  to  an  under- 
standing. Mrs.  Drew  would  not  go  to  Wa- 
binosh  House,  but  she  would  allow  Roderick 
to  spend  the  winter  there — and  word  to  this 
effect  was  sent  off  into  the  wilderness. 

Three  weeks  later  came  Wabigoon's  reply. 
On  the  tenth  of  October  he  would  meet  Rod  at 
Sprucewood,  on  the  Black  Sturgeon  River. 
Thence  they  would  travel  by  canoe  up  the 
Sturgeon  River  to  Sturgeon  Lake,  take  port- 
age to  Lake  Nipigon,  and  arrive  at  Wabinosh 
House  before  the  ice  of  early  winter  shut  them 
in.  There  was  little  time  to  lose  in  making 
preparations,  and  the  fourth  day  following  the 
33 


THE  WOLF   HUNTERS 

of  Wabi's  letter  found  Rod  and  his 
nother  waiting  for  the  tiain  which  was  to 
;vhirl  the  boy  into  his  new  life.  Not  until  the 
eleventh  did  he  arrive  at  Sprucewood.  Wabi 
Tvas  there  to  meet  him,  accompanied  by  an 
tndian  from  the  Post;  and  that  same  afternoon 
the  journey  up  Black  Sturgeon  River  was  be- 
gun. 


CHAPTER   III 

RODERICK  SEES  THE  FOOTPRINT 

K)D  was  now  plunged  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life  into  the  heart  of  the  wil- 
derness. Seated  in  the  bow  of  the 
birch-bark  canoe  which  was  carrying  them  up 
the  Sturgeon,  with  Wabi  close  behind  him,  he 
drank  in  the  wild  beauties  of  the  forests  and 
swamps  through  which  they  slipped  almost  as 
noiselessly  as  shadows,  his  heart  thumping 
in  joyous  excitement,  his  eyes  constantly  on 
the  alert  for  signs  of  the  big  game  which  Wabi 
told  him  was  on  all  sides  of  them.  Across  his 
knees,  ready  for  instant  use,  was  Wabi's  re- 
peating rifle.  The  air  was  keen  with  the  fresh- 
ness left  by  night  frosts.  At  times  deep  massed 
of  gold  and  crimson  forests  shut  them  in,  at 
others,  black  forests  of  spruce  came  down  to 
the  river's  edge ;  again  they  would  pass  silently 
tt 


THE  WOLF   HUNTERS 

through  great  swamps  of  tamaracks.  In  this 
vast  desolation  there  was  a  mysterious  quiet, 
except  for  the  occasional  sounds  of  wild  life. 
Partridges  drummed  back  in  the  woods,  flocks 
of  ducks  got  up  with  a  great  rush  of  wings  at 
almost  every  turn,  and  once,  late  in  the  morn- 
ing of  the  first  day  out,  Rod  was  thrilled  by 
a  crashing  in  the  undergrowth  scarcely  a 
stone's  throw  from  the  canoe.  He  could  see 
saplings  twisting  and  bending,  and  heard 
Wabi  whisper  behind  him: 

"A  moose!" 

They  were  words  to  set  his  hands  trembling 
and  his  whole  body  quivering  with  anticipa- 
tion. There  was  in  him  now  none  of  the  old 
hunter's  coolness,  none  of  the  almost  stoical 
indifference  with  which  the  men  of  the  big 
North  hear  these  sounds  of  the  wild  things 
about  them.  Rod  had  yet  to  see  his  first  big 
game. 

That  moment  came  in  the  afternoon.  The 
canoe  had  skimmed  lightly  around  a  bend  in 
the  river.  Beyond  this  bend  a  mass  of  dead 
36 


RODERICK  SEES  THE  FOOTPRINT 

driftwood  had  wedged  against  the  shore,  and 
this  driftwood,  as  the  late  sun  sank  behind  the 
forests,  was  bathed  in  a  warm  yellow  glow. 
And  basking  in  this  glow,  as  he  loves  to  do 
at  the  approach  of  winter  nights,  was  an  ani- 
mal, the  sight  of  which  drew  a  sharp,  excited 
cry  from  between  Rod's  lips.  In  an  instant  he 
had  recognized  it  as  a  bear.  The  animal  was 
taken  completely  by  surprise  and  was  less  than 
half  a  dozen  rods  away.  Quick  as  a  flash, 
and  hardly  realizing  what  he  was  doing,  the 
boy  drew  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder,  took  quick 
aim  and  fired.  The  bear  was  already  clamber- 
ing up  the  driftwood,  but  stopped  suddenly  at 
the  report,  slipped  as  if  about  to  fall  back — 
then  continued  his  retreat. 

"You  hit  'im!"  shouted  Wabi.  "Quick- 
try  Jim  again !" 

Rod's  second  shot  seemed  to  have  no  effect 
In  his  excitement  he  jumped  to  his  feet,  for- 
getting that  he  was  in  a  frail  canoe,  and  took 
a  last  shot  at  the  big  black  beast  that  was  just 
about  to  disappear  over  the  edge  of  the  drift- 
37 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

wood.  Both  Wabi  and  his  Indian  companion 
flung  themselves  on  the  shore  side  of  their 
birch  and  dug  their  paddles  deep  into  the  wa- 
ter, but  their  efforts  were  unavailing  to  save 
their  reckless  comrade.  Unbalanced  by  the 
concussion  of  his  gun,  Rod  plunged  backward 
into  the  river,  but  before  he  had  time  to  sink, 
Wabi  reached  over  and  grabbed  him  by  the 
arm. 

"Don't  make  a  move — and  hang  on  to  the 
gun!"  he  warned.  "If  we  try  to  get  you  in 
here  we'll  all  go  over^"  He  made  a  sign  to 
the  Indian,  who  swung  the  canoe  slowly  in- 
shore. Then  he  grinned  down  into  Rod's 
dripping,  unhappy  face. 

"By  George,  that  last  shot  was  a  dandy  for 
a  tenderfoot!  You  got  your  bear!" 

Despite  his  uncomfortable  position,  Rod 
gave  a  whoop  of  joy,  and  no  sooner  did  his 
feet  touch  solid  bottom  than  he  loosened  him- 
self from  Wabi's  grip  and  plunged  toward 
the  driftwood.  On  its  very  top  he  found  the 
bear,  as  dead  as  a  bullet  through  its  side  and 
38 


RODERICK   SEES   THE   FOOTPRINT 

another  through  its  head  could  make  it.  Stand- 
ing there  beside  his  first  big  game,  dripping 
and  shivering,  he  looked  down  upon  the  two 
who  were  pulling  their  canoe  ashore  and  gave 
a  series  of  triumphant  whoops  that  could  have 
been  heard  half  a  mile  away. 

"It's  camp  and  a  fire  for  you,"  laughed 
Wabi,  hurrying  up  to  him.  "This  is  better 
luck  than  I  thought  you'd  have,  Rod.  We'll 
have  a  glorious  feast  to-night,  and  a  fire  of 
this  driftwood  that  will  show  you  what  makes 
life  worth  the  living  up  here  in  the  North. 
'Ho,  Muky,"  he  called  to  the  old  Indian,  "cut 
this  fellow  up,  will  you?  I'll  make  camp." 

"Can  we  keep  the  skin?"  asked  Rod.  "It's 
my  first,  you  know,  and — " 

"Of  course  we  can.  Give  us  a  hand  with  the 
fire,  Rod;  it  will  keep  you  from  catching 
cold." 

In  the  excitement  of  making  their  first  camp 

kod  almost  forgot  that  he  was  soaked  to  the 

skin,  and  that  night  was  falling  about  them. 

The  first  step  was  the  building  of  a  fire,  and 

39 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

soon  a  great,  crackling,  almost  smokeless  blaze 
was  throwing  its  light  and  heat  for  thirty  feet 
around.  Wabi  now  brought  blankets  from  the 
canoe,  stripped  off  a  part  of  his  own  clothes5 
made  Rod  undress,  and  soon  had  that  youth 
swathed  in  dry  togs,  while  his  wet  ones  were 
hung  close  up  to  the  fire.  For  the  first  time 
Rod  saw  the  making  of  a  wilderness  shelter. 
Whistling  cheerily,  Wabi  got  an  ax  from 
the  canoe,  went  into  the  edge  of  the  cedars 
and  cut  armful  after  armful  of  saplings  and 
boughs.  Tying  his  blankets  about  himself, 
Rod  helped  to  carry  these,  a  laughable  and 
grotesque  figure  as  he  stumbled  about  clumsily 
in  his  efforts.  Within  half  an  hour  the  cedar 
shelter  was  taking  form.  Two  crotched  sap- 
lings were  driven  into  the  ground  eight  feet 
apart,  and  from  one  to  the  other,  resting  in 
the  crotches,  was  placed  another  sapling, 
which  formed  the  ridge-pole;  and  from  this 
pole  there  ran  slantwise  to  the  earth  half  a 
dozen  others,  making  a  framework  upon 
which  the  cedar  boughs  were  piled.  By  *ji£ 
40 


RODERICK  SEES  THE"  FOOTPRINT 

time  the  old  Indian  had  finished  his  bear  the 
home  was  completed,  and  with  its  beds  of 
sweet-smelling  boughs,  the  great  camp-fire  in 
front  and  the  dense  wilderness  about  them 
growing  black  with  the  approach  of  night, 
Rod  thought  that  nothing  in  picture-book  or 
story  could  quite  equal  the  reality  of  that  mo- 
ment. And  when,  a  few  moments  later,  great 
bear-steaks  were  broiling  over  a  mass  of  coals, 
and  the  odoi  of  coffee  mingled  with  that  of 
meal-cakes  sizzling  on  a  heated  stone,  he  knew 
that  his  dearest  dreams  had  come  true. 

That  night  in  the  glow  of  the  camp-fire  Rod 
listened  to  the  thrilling  stories  of  Wabi  and 
the  old  Indian,  and  lay  awake  until  nearly 
dawn,  listening  to  the  occasional  howl  of  a 
wolf,  mysterious  splashings  in  the  river  and 
the  shrill  notes  of  the  night  birds.  There  were 
varied  experiences  in  the  following  three  days: 
one  frosty  morning  before  the  others  were 
awake  he  stole  out  from  the  camp  with  Wabi's 
rifle  and  shot  twice  at  a  red  deer — which  he 
missed  both  times;  there  was  an  exciting  but 
41 


THE    WOLF    HUNTERS 

fruitless  race  with  a  swimming  caribou  in 
Sturgeon  Lake,  at  which  Wabi  himself  took 
three  long-range  shots  without  effect. 

It  was  on  a  glorious  autumn  afternoon  that 
Wabi's  keen  eyes  first  descried  the  log  build- 
ings of  the  Post  snuggled  in  the  edge  of  the 
seemingly  unending  forest.  As  they  ap- 
proached he  joyfully  pointed  out  the  different 
buildings  to  Rod — the  Company  store,  the  lit- 
tle cluster  of  employees'  homes  and  the  fac- 
tor's house,  where  Rod  was  to  meet  his  wel- 
come. At  least  Roderick  himself  had  thought 
it  would  be  there.  But  as  they  came  nearer  a 
single  canoe  shot  out  suddenly  from  the  shore 
and  the  young  hunters  could  see  a  white  hand- 
kerchief waving  them  greeting.  Wabi  re- 
plied with  a  whoop  of  pleasure  and  fired  his 
gun  into  the  air. 

"It's  Minnetaki!"  he  cried.  "She  said  she 
would  watch  for  us  and  come  out  to  meet  us !" 

Minnetaki!  A  little  nervous  thrill  shot 
through  Rod  WabJ  had  described  her  to 
him  a  thousand  times  in  those  winter  evenings 
42 


RODERICK   SEES   THE   FOOTPRINT 

at  home;  with  a  brother's  love  and  pride  he 
had  always  brought  her  into  their  talks  and 
plans,  and  somehow,  little  by  little,  Rod  had 
grown  to  like  her  very  much  without  ever 
having  seen  her. 

The  two  canoes  swiftly  approached  each 
other,  and  in  a  few  minutes  more  were  along- 
side. With  a  glad  laughing  cry  Minnetaki 
leaned  over  and  kissed  her  brother,  while  at 
the  same  time  her  dark  eyes  shot  a  curious 
glance  at  the  youth  of  whom  she  had  read  and 
heard  so  much. 

At  this  time  Minnetaki  was  fifteen.  Like 
her  mother's  race  she  was  slender,  of  almost 
woman's  height,  and  unconsciously  as  graceful 
as  a  fawn  in  her  movements.  A  slightly  wav- 
ing wealth  of  raven  hair  framed  what  Rod 
thought  to  be  one  of  the  prettiest  faces  he  had 
ever  seen,  and  entwined  in  the  heavy  silken 
braid  that  fell  over  her  shoulder  were  a  num- 
ber of  red  autumn  leaves.  As  she  straightened 
herself  in  her  canoe  she  looked  at  Rod  and 
smiled,  and  he  in  making  a  polite  effort  to 
43 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

lift  his  cap  in  civilized  style,  lost  that  article 
of  apparel  in  a  sudden  gust  of  wind.  In  an 
instant  there  was  a  general  laugh  of  merri- 
ment in  which  even  the  old  Indian  joined. 
The  little  incident  did  more  toward  making 
comradeship  than  anything  else  that  might 
have  happened,  and  laughing  again  into  Rod's 
face  Minnetaki  urged  her  canoe  toward  the 
floating  cap. 

"You  shouldn't  wear  such  things  until  it 
gets  cold,"  she  said,  after  retrieving  the  cap 
and  handing  it  to  him.  "Wabi  does — but  I 
don't!" 

"Then  I  won't,"  replied  Rod  gallantly,  and 
at  Wabi's  burst  of  laughter  both  blushed. 

That  first  night  at  the  Post  Rod  found  that 
Wabi  had  already  made  all  plans  for  the  win- 
ter's hunting,  and  the  white  youth's  complete 
equipment  was  awaiting  him  in  the  room  as- 
signed to  him  in  the  factor's  house — a  deadly 
looking  five-shot  Remington,  similar  to 
IWabi's,  a  long-barreled,  heavy-caliber  revol- 
44 


RODERICK   SEES   THE   FOOTPRINT 

ver,  snow-shoes,  and  a  dozen  other  articles 
necessary  to  one  about  to  set  out  upon  a  long 
expedition  in  the  wilderness.  Wabi  had  also 
mapped  out  their  hunting-grounds.  Wolves 
in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  Post, 
where  they  were  being  constantly  sought  by 
the  Indians  and  the  factor's  men,  had  become 
exceedingly  cautious  and  were  not  numerous, 
but  in  the  almost  untraveled  wilderness  a  hun- 
dred miles  to  the  north  and  east  they  were  lit- 
erally overrunning  the  country,  killing  moose, 
caribou  and  deer  in  great  numbers. 

In  this  region  Wabi  planned  to  make  their 
winter  quarters.  And  no  time  was  to  be  lost 
in  taking  up  the  trail,  for  the  log  house  in 
which  they  would  pass  the  bitterly  cold 
months  should  be  built  before  the  heavy  snows 
set  in.  It  was  therefore  decided  that  the  young 
hunters  should  start  within  a  week,  accom- 
panied by  Mukoki,  the  old  Indian,  a  cousin 
of  the  slain  Wabigoon,  whom  Wabi  had  given 
the  nickname  of  Muky  and  who  had  been  a 
45 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

faithful   comrade  to   him   from   his  earliest 
childhood. 

Rod  made  the  most  of  the  six  days  which 
were  allotted  to  him  at  the  Post,  and  while 
Wabi  helped  to  handle  the  affairs  of  the  Com- 
pany's store  during  a  short  absence  of  his 
father  at  Port  Arthur,  the  lovely  little  Minne- 
taki  gave  our  hero  his  first  lessons  in  wood- 
craft. In  canoe,  with  the  rifle,  and  in  reading 
the  signs  of  forest  life  Wabi's  sister  awakened 
constantly  increasing  admiration  in  Rod.  To 
see  her  bending  over  some  freshly  made  trail, 
her  cheeks  flushed,  her  eyes  sparkling  with  ex- 
citement, her  rich  hair  filled  with  the  warmth 
of  the  sun,  was  a  picture  to  arouse  enthusiasm 
even  in  the  heart  of  a  youngster  of  eighteen, 
and  a  hundred  times  the  boy  mentally  vowed 
that  "she  was  a  brick"  from  the  tips  of  her 
pretty  moccasined  feet  to  the  top  of  her  pret- 
tier head.  Half  a  dozen  times  at  least  he 
voiced  this  sentiment  to  Wabi,  and  Wabi 
agreed  with  great  enthusiasm.  In  fact,  by  the 
time  the  week  was  almost  gone  Minnetaki  and 

46 


RODERICK  SEES  THE  FOOTPRINT 

Rod  had  become  great  chums,  and  it  was  not 
without  some  feeling  of  regret  that  the  young 
wolf  hunter  greeted  the  dawn  of  the  day  that 
was  to  see  them  begin  their  journey  deeper 
into  the  wilds. 

Minnetaki  was  one  of  the  earliest  risers  at 
the  Post.  Rod  was  seldom  behind  her.  But 
on  this  particular  morning  he  was  late  and 
heard  the  girl  whistling  outside  half  an  hour 
before  he  was  dressed — for  Minnetaki  could 
whistle  in  a  manner  that  often  filled  him  with 
envy.  By  the  time  he  came  down  she  had  dis->. 
appeared  in  the  edge  of  the  forest,  and  Wabi, 
who  was  also  ahead  of  him,  was  busy  with 
Mukoki  tying  up  their  equipment  in  packs.  It 
was  a  glorious  morning,  clear  and  frosty,  and 
Rod  noticed  that  a  thin  shell  of  ice  had  formed 
on  the  lake  during  the  night.  Once  or  twice 
Wabi  turned  toward  the  forest  and  gave  his 
signal  whoop,  but  received  no  reply. 

"I  don't  see  why  Minnetaki  doesn't  come 
back,"  he  remarked  carelessly,  as  he  fastened 
a  shoulder-strap  about  a  bundle.  "Breakfast 
47 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

will  be  ready  in  a  jiffy.  Hunt  her  up,  will  you, 
Rod?" 

Nothing  loath,  Rod  started  out  on  a  brisk 
run  along  the  path  which  he  knew  to  be  a 
favorite  with  Minnetaki  and  shortly  it  brought 
him  down  to  a  pebbly  stretch  of  the  beach 
where  she  frequently  left  her  canoe.  That  she 
had  been  here  a  few  minutes  before  he  could 
tell  by  the  fact  that  the  ice  about  the  birch- 
bark  was  broken,  as  though  the  girl  had  tested 
its  thickness  by  shoving  the  light  craft  out  into 
it  for  a  few  feet.  Her  footsteps  led  plainly 
up  the  shelving  shore  and  into  the  forest. 

"O  Minnetaki — Minnetaki!" 

Rod  called  loudly  and  listened.  There  was 
no  response.  As  if  impelled  by  some  presenti- 
ment which  he  himself  could  not  explain,  the 
boy  hurried  deeper  into  the  forest  along  the 
narrow  path  which  Minnetaki  must  have 
taken.  Five  minutes — ten  minutes — and 
he  called  again.  Still  there  was  no  an- 
swer. Possibly  the  girl  had  not  gone  so  far, 
or  she  might  have  left  the  path  for  the  thick 
48 


RODERICK   SEES   THE   FOOTPRINT 

woods.  A  little  farther  on  there  was  a  soft 
spot  in  the  path  where  a  great  tree-trunk  had 
rotted  half  a  century  before,  leaving  a  rich 
black  soil.  Clearly  traced  in  this  were  the  im- 
prints of  Minnetaki's  moccasins.  For  a  full 
minute  Rod  stopped  and  listened,  making  not 
a  sound.  Why  he  maintained  silence  he  could 
not  have  explained.  But  he  knew  that  he  was 
half  a  mile  from  the  Post,  and  that  Wabi's 
sister  should  not  be  here  at  breakfast  time.  In 
this  minute's  quiet  he  unconsciously  studied 
the  tracks  in  the  ground.  How  small  the  pretty 
Indian  maiden's  feet  were !  And  he  noticed, 
too,  that  her  moccasins,  unlike  most  moccasins, 
had  a  slight  heel. 

But  in  a  moment  more  his  inspection  was 
cut  short.  Was  that  a  cry  he  heard  far  ahead? 
His  heart  seemed  to  stop  beating,  his  blood 
thrilled — and  in  another  instant  he  was  run- 
ning down  the  path  like  a  deer.  Twenty  rods 
beyond  this  point  the  path  entered  an  opening 
in  the  forest  made  by  a  great  fire,  and  half- 
way across  this  opening  the  youth  saw  a  sight 
49 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

which  chilled  him  to  the  marrow.  There  was 
Minnetaki,  her  long  hair  tumbling  loosely 
down  her  back,  a  cloth  tied  around  her  head— 
and  on  either  side  an  Indian  dragging  he* 
swiftly  toward  the  opposite  forest! 

For  as  long  as  he  might  have  drawn  three 
breaths  Rod  stood  transfixed  with  horror. 
Then  his  senses  returned  to  him,  and  every 
muscle  in  his  body  seemed  to  bound  with  ac- 
tion. For  days  he  had  been  practising  with 
his  revolver  and  it  was  now  in  the  holster  at 
his  side.  Should  he  use  it?  Or  might  he  hit 
Minnetaki?  At  his  feet  he  saw  a  club  and 
snatching  this  up  he  sped  across  the  opening, 
the  soft  earth  holding  the  sound  of  his  steps. 
When  he  was  a  dozen  feet  behind  the  Indians 
Minnetaki  stumbled  in  a  sudden  effort  to  free 
herself,  and  as  one  of  her  captors  half  turned 
to  drag  her  to  her  feet  he  saw  the  enraged 
youth,  club  uplifted,  bearing  down  upon  them 
like  a  demon.  A  terrific  yell  from  Rod,  a 
warning  cry  from  the  Indian,  and  the  fra^ 
began.  With  crushing  force  the  boy's  club 
.So 


RODERICK   SEES   THE   FOOTPRINT 

fell  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  second  Indian, 
and  before  he  could  recover  from  the  delivery 
of  this  blow  the  youth  was  caught  in  a  choking, 
deadly  grip  by  the  other  from  behind. 

Freed  by  the  sudden  attack,  Minnetaki  tore 
.away  the  cloth  that  bound  her  eyes  and  mouth. 
As  quick  as  a  flash  she  took  in  the  situation. 
At  her  feet  the  wounded  Indian  was  half  ris- 
ing, and  upon  the  ground  near  him,  struggling 
in  close  embrace,  were  Rod  and  the  other.  She 
saw  the  Indian's  fatal  grip  upon  her  preserv- 
er's throat,  the  whitening  face  and  wide-open 
eyes,  and  with  a  great,  sobbing  cry  she  caught 
up  the  fallen  club  and  brought  it  down  with 
all  her  strength  upon  the  redskin's  head. 
Twice,  three  times  the  club  rose  and  fell,  and 
the  grip  on  Rod's  throat  relaxed.  A  fourth 
time  it  rose,  but  this  time  was  caught  from  be- 
hind, and  a  huge  hand  clutched  the  brave 
girl's  throat  so  that  the  cry  on  her  lips  died  in 
a  gasp.  But  the  relief  gave  Rod  his  oppor- 
tunity. With  a  tremendous  effort  he  reached 
his  pistol  holster,  drew  out  the  gun,  and 
SI 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

pressed  it  close  up  against  his  assailant's  body. 
There  was  a  muffled  report  and  with  a  shriek 
of  agony  the  Indian  pitched  backward.  Hear- 
ing the  shot  and  seeing  the  effect  upon  his  com- 
rade, the  second  Indian  released  his  hold  on 
Minnetaki  and  ran  for  the  forest.  Rod,  seeing 
Minnetaki  fall  in  a  sobbing,  frightened  heap, 
forgot  all  else  but  to  run  to  her,  smooth  back 
her  hair  and  comfort  her  with  all  of  the  as- 
surances at  his  boyish  command. 

It  was  here  that  Wabi  and  the  old  Indian 
guide  found  them  five  minutes  later.  Hearing 
Rod's  first  piercing  yell  of  attack,  they  had 
raced  into  the  forest,  afterward  guided  by  the 
two  or  three  shrill  screams  which  Minnetaki 
had  unconsciously  emitted  during  the  strug- 
gle. Close  behind  them,  smelling  trouble,  fol- 
lowed two  of  the  Post  employees. 

The  attempted  abduction  of  Wabi's  sister, 
Rod's  heroic  rescue  and  the  death  of  one  of 
the  captors,  who  was  recognized  as  one  of 
Woonga's  men,  caused  a  seven-day  sensation  at 
the  Post. 

52 


RODERICK   SEES   THE   FOOTPRINT 

There  was  now  no  thought  of  leaving  on 
the  part  of  the  young  wolf  hunters.  It  was 
evident  that  Woonga  was  again  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, and  Wabi  and  Rod,  together  with  a 
score  of  Indians  and  hunters,  spent  days  in 
scouring  the  forests  and  swamps.  But  the 
Woongas  disappeared  as  suddenly  as  they 
came.  Not  until  Wabi  had  secured  a  promise 
from  Minnetaki  that  she  would  no  longer  go 
into  the  forests  unaccompanied  did  the  Indian 
youth  again  allow  himself  to  take  up  their  in- 
terrupted plans. 

Minnetaki  had  been  within  easy  calling  dis- 
tance of  help  when  the  Woongas,  without 
warning,  sprang  upon  her,  smothered  her  at- 
tempted cries  and  dragged  her  away,  com- 
pelling her  to  walk  alone  over  the  soft  earth 
where  Rod  had  seen  her  footsteps,  so  that  any 
person  who  followed  might  suppose  she  was 
alone  and  safe.  This  fact  stirred  the  dozen 
white  families  at  the  Post  into  aggressive  ac- 
tion, and  four  of  the  most  skilful  Indian  track- 
hunters  in  the  service  were  detailed  to  devote 
53 


THE    WOLF    HUNTERS 

themselves  exclusively  to  hunting  down  the 
outlaws,  their  operations  not  to  include  a  ter- 
ritory extending  more  than  twenty  miles  from 
Wabinosh  House  in  any  direction.  With 
these  precautions  it  was  believed  that  no  harm 
could  come  to  Minnetaki  or  other  young  girls 
of  the  Post. 

It  was,  therefore,  on  a  Monday,  the  fourth 
day  of  November,  that  Rod,  Wabi  and  Mu- 
koki  turned  their  faces  at  last  to  the  adven- 
tures that  awaited  them  in  the  great  North. 


54 


CHAPTER  IV 

RODERICK'S  FIRST  TASTE  OF  THE  HUNTER'S 

LIFE 

BY  this  time  it  was  bitter  cold.  The  lakes 
and  rivers  were  frozen  deep  and  a 
light  snow  covered  the  ground.  Al- 
ready two  weeks  behind  their  plans,  the  young 
wolf  hunters  and  the  old  Indian  made  forced 
marches  around  the  northern  extremity  of 
Lake  Nipigon  and  on  the  sixth  day  found 
themselves  on  the  Ombabika  River,  where 
they  were  compelled  to  stop  on  account  of  a 
dense  snow-storm.  A  temporary  camp  was 
made,  and  it  was  while  constructing  this  camp 
that  Mukoki  discovered  signs  of  wolves.  It 
was  therefore  decided  to  remain  for  a  day  or 
two  and  investigate  the  hunting-grounds.  On 
the  morning  of  the  second  day  Wabi  shot  at 
and  wounded  the  old  bull  moose  which  met 
55 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

such  a  tragic  end  a  few  hours  later,  and  that 
same  morning  the  two  boys  made  a  long  tour 
to  the  north  in  the  hope  of  finding  that  they 
were  in  a  good  game  country,  which  would 
mean  also  that  there  were  plenty  of  wolves. 

This  left  Mukoki  alone  in  camp.  Thus  far, 
in  their  desire  to  cover  as  much  ground  as  pos- 
sible before  the  heavy  snows  came,  Wabi  and 
his  companions  had  not  stopped  to  hunt  for 
game  and  for  six  days  their  only  meat  had 
been  bacon  and  jerked  venison.  Mukoki, 
whose  prodigious  appetite  was  second  only  to 
the  shrewdness  with  which  he  stalked  game  to 
satisfy  it,  determined  to  add  to  their  larder  if 
possible  during  the  others'  absence,  and  with 
this  object  in  view  he  left  camp  late  in  the  aft- 
ernoon to  be  gone,  as  he  anticipated,  not  longef 
than  an  nour  or  so. 

With  him  he  carried  two  powerful  wolf- 
traps  slung  over  his  shoulders.  Stealing  cau- 
tiously along  the  edge  of  the  river,  his  eyes 
and  ears  alert  for  game,  Mukoki  suddenly 
came  upon  the  frozen  and  half-eaten  carcass 
56 


THE   HUNTER'S   LI-FE 

of  a  red  deer.  It  was  evident  that  the  animal 
had  been  killed  by  wolves  either  the  day  or 
night  before,  and  from  the  tracks  in  the  snow 
the  Indian  concluded  that  not  more  than  four 
wolves  had  participated  in  the  slaughter  and 
feast.  That  these  wolves  would  return  to  con- 
tinue their  banquet,  probably  that  night,  Mu- 
koki's  many  experiences  as  a  wolf  hunter  as- 
sured him ;  and  he  paused  long  enough  to  set 
his  traps,  afterward  covering  them  over  with 
three  or  four  inches  of  snow. 

Continuing  his  hunt,  the  old  Indian  soon 
struck  the  fresh  spoor  of  a  deer.  Believing 
that  the  animal  would  not  travel  for  any  great 
distance  in  the  deep  snow,  he  swiftly  took  up 
the  trail.  Half  a  mile  farther  on  he  stopped 
abruptly  with  a  grunt  of  unbounded  surprise. 
Another  hunter  had  taken  up  the  trail  I 

With  increased  caution  Mukoki  now  aid-' 
vanced.  Two  hundred  feet  more  and  a  second 
pair  of  moccasined  feet  joined  in  the  pursuit, 
and  a  little  later  still  a  third! 

Led  on  by  curiosity  more  than  by  the  hope 
57 


THE  WOLF  HUNTERS 

of  securing  a  partnership  share  in  the  quarry, 
the  Indian  slipped  silently  and  swiftly  through 
the  forest.  As  he  emerged  from  a  dense  growth 
of  spruce  through  which  the  tracks  led  him 
Mukoki  was  treated  to  another  surprise  by  al- 
most stumbling  over  the  carcass  of  the  deer 
he  had  been  following.  A  brief  examination 
satisfied  him  that  the  doe  had  been  shot  at 
least  two  hours  before.  The  three  hunters 
had  cut  out  her  heart,  liver  and  tongue  and 
had  also  taken  the  hind  quarters,  leaving  the 
remainder  of  the  carcass  and  the  skin!  Why 
had  they  neglected  this  most  valuable  part  of 
their  spoils?  With  a  new  gleam  of  interest  in 
his  eyes  Mukoki  carefully  scrutinized  the 
moccasin  trails.  He  soon  discovered  that  the 
Indians  ahead  of  him  were  in  great  haste,  and 
that  after  cutting  the  choicest  meat  from  the 
doe  they  had  started  off  to  make  up  for  lost 
time  by  running! 

With  another  grunt  of  astonishment  the  old 
Indian    returned    to    the    carcass,    quickly 
stripped  off  the  skin,  wrapped  in  it  the  fore 
58 


THE  HUNTER'S  LIFE 

quarters  and  ribs  of  the  doe,  and  thus  loaded, 
took  up  the  home  trail.  It  was  dark  when  he 
reached  camp.  Wabi  and  Rod  had  not  yet 
returned.  Building  a  huge  fire  and  hanging 
the  ribs  of  the  doe  on  a  spit  before  it,  he  anx- 
iously awaited  their  appearance. 

Half  an  hour  later  he  heard  the  shout  which 
brought  him  quickly  to  where  Wabi  was  hold- 
ing the  partly  unconscious  form  of  Rod  in  his 
arms. 

It  took  but  a  few  moments  to  carry  the  in- 
jured youth  to  camp,  and  not  until  Rod  was 
resting  upon  a  pile  of  blankets  in  their  shack, 
with  the  warmth  of  the  fire  reviving  him,  did 
Wabi  vouchsafe  an  explanation  to  the  old  In- 
dian. 

"I  guess  he's  got  a  broken  arm,  Muky,"  he 
said.  "Have  you  any  hot  water?" 

"Shot?"  asked  the  old  hunter,  paying  no  at- 
tention to  the  question.  He  dropped  upon  his 
knees  beside  Rod,  his  long  brown  fingers 
reaching  out  anxiously.  "Shot?" 

"No — hit  with  a  club.  We  met  three  In- 
59 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

3ian  hunters  who  were  in  camp  and  who  in- 
vited us  to  eat  with  them.  While  we  were 
eating  they  jumped  upon  our  backs.  Rod  got 
that — and  lost  his  rifle !" 

Mukoki  quickly  stripped  the  wounded  boy 
of  his  garments,  baring  his  left  arm  and  side. 
The  arm  was  swollen  and  almost  black  and 
there  was  a  great  bruise  on  Rod's  body  a  little 
above  the  waist.  Mukoki  was  a  surgeon  by 
necessity,  a  physician  such  as  one  finds  only 
in  the  vast  unblazed  wildernesses,  where  Na- 
ture is  the  teacher.  Crudely  he  made  his  ex- 
amination, pinching  and  twisting  the  flesh  and 
bones  until  Rod  cried  out  in  pain,  but  in  the 
end  there  was  a  glad  triumph  in  his  voice  as 
he  said : 

"No  bone  broke — hurt  most  here!"  and  he 
touched  the  bruise.  "Near  broke  rib — not 
quite.  Took  wind  out  and  made  great  deal 
sick.  Want  good  supper,  hot  coffee — rub  in 
bear's  grease,  then  be  better!" 

Rod,  who  had  opened  his  eyes,  smiled 
ij  and  Wabi  gave  a  half-shout  of  delight. 
60 


THE  HUNTER'S  LIFE 

"Not  so  bad  as  we  thought,  eh,  Rod?"  he 
cried.  "You  can't  fool  Muky!  If  he  says 
your  arm  isn't  broken — why,  it  isn't,  and  that's 
all  there  is  to  it.  Let  me  bolster  you  up  in 
these  blankets  and  we'll  soon  have  a  supper' 
that  will  sizzle  the  aches  out  of  you.  I  smell 
meat — fresh  meat!" 

With  a  chuckle  of  pleasure  Mukoki  jumped 
to  his  feet  and  ran  out  to  where  the  ribs  of  the 
doe  were  slowly  broiling  over  the  fire.  They 
were  already  done  to  a  rich  brown  and  their 
dripping  juice  filled  the  nostrils  with  an  ap- 
petizing odor.  By  the  time  Wabi  had  applied 
Mukoki's  prescription  to  his  comrade's 
wounds,  and  had  done  them  up  in  bandages, 
the  tempting  feast  was  spread  before  them. 

As  a  liberal  section  of  the  ribs  was  placed 
before  him,  together  with  corn-meal  cakes 
and  a  cup  of  steaming  coffee,  Rod  could  not 
suppress  a  happy  though  somewhat  embar- 
rassed laugh. 

"I'm  ashamed  of  myself,  Wabi,"  he  said. 
"Here  I've  been  causing  so  much  bother,  like 
61 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

some  helpless  kid;  and  now  I  find  I  haven't 
even  the  excuse  of  a  broken  arm,  and  that  I'm 
as  hungry  as  a  bear!  Looks  pretty  yellow, 
jdoesn't  it?  Just  as  though  I  was  scared  to 
death!  So  help  me,  I  almost  wish  my  arm 
•was  broken !" 

Mukoki  had  buried  his  teeth  in  a  huge 
chunk  of  fat  rib,  but  he  lowered  it  with  a 
great  chuckling  grunt,  half  of  his  face 
smeared  with  the  first  results  of  his  feast. 

"Whole  lot  sick,"  he  explained.  "Be  sick 
some  more — mighty  sick!  Maybe  vomit  lots!" 

"Waugh!"  shrieked  Wabi.  "How  is  that 
for  cheerful  news,  Rod?"  His  merriment 
echoed  far  out  into  the  night.  Suddenly  he 
caught  himself  and  peered  suspiciously  into 
the  gloom  beyond  the  circle  of  firelight. 

"Do  you  suppose  they  would  follow?"  he 
asked.  " 

rA  more  cautious  silence  followed,  and  the 

Indian  youth  quickly  related  the  adventures 

of  the  day  to  Mukoki — how,  in  the  heart  of 

the  forest  several  miles  beyond  the  lake,  they 

62 


THE  HUNTER'S  LIFE 

had  come  upon  the  Indian  hunters,  had  ac- 
cepted of  their  seemingly  honest  hospitality, 
and  in  the  midst  of  their  meal  had  suffered  an 
attack  from  them.  So  sudden  and  unexpected 
had  been  the  assault  that  one  of  the  Indians 
got  away  with  Rod's  rifle,  ammunition  belt 
and  revolver  before  any  effort  could  be  made 
to  stop  him.  Wabi  was  under  the  other  two 
Indians  when  Rod  came  to  his  assistance,  with 
the  result  that  the  latter  was  struck  two  heavy 
blows,  either  with  a  club  or  a  gun-stock.  So 
tenaciously  had  the  Indian  boy  clung  to  his 
own  weapon  that  his  assailants,  after  a  brief 
struggle,  darted  into  the  dense  underbrush, 
evidently  satisfied  with  the  white  boy's  equip- 
ment. 

"They  were  of  Woonga's  people,  without  a 
rdoubt,"  finished  Wabi.  "It  puzzles  me  why 
they  didn't  kill  us.  They  had  half  a  dozen 
chances  to  shoot  us,  but  didn't  seem  to  want  to 
do  us  any  great  injury.  Either  the  measures 
taken  at  the  Post  are  making  them  reform, 
or—" 


THE  WOLF  HUNTERS 

He  paused,  a  troubled  look  in  his  eyes.  Im- 
mediately Mukoki  told  of  his  own  experience 
and  of  the  mysterious  haste  of  the  three  In- 
dians who  had  slain  the  doe. 

"It  is  certainly  curious,"  rejoined  the  young 
Indian.  "They  couldn't  have  been  the  ones  we 
met,  but  I'll  wager  they  belong  to  the  same 
gang.  I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  we  had 
hit  upon  one  of  Woonga's  retreats.  We've  al- 
ways thought  he  was  in  the  Thunder  Bay  re- 
gions to  the  west,  and  that  is  where  father  is 
watching  for  him  now.  We've  hit  the  hor- 
nets' nest,  Muky,  and  the  only  thing  for  us 
to  do  is  to  get  out  of  this  country  as  fast  as 
we  can  1" 

"We'd  make  a  nice  pot-shot  just  at  this  mo- 
ment," volunteered  Rod,  looking  across  to  the 
dense  blackness  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
river,  where  the  moonlight  seemed  to  make 
even  more  impenetrable  the  wall  of  gloom. 

As  he  spoke  there  came  a  slight  sound  from 
behind  him,  the  commotion  of  a  body  moving 
softly  beyond  the  wall  of  spruce  boughs,  then 
64 


THE   HUNTER  S   LIFE 

a  curious,  suspicious  sniffing,  and  after  that  a 
low  whine. 

"Listen!" 

Wabi's  command  came  in  a  tense  whisper. 
He  leaned  close  against  the  boughs,  stealthily 
parted  them,  and  slowly  thrust  his  head 
through  the  aperture. 

"Hello,  Wolf!"  he  whispered.  "What's 
up?" 

An  arm's  length  away,  tied  before  a  smaller 
shelter  of  spruce,  a  gaunt,  dog-like  animal 
stood  in  a  rigid  listening  attitude.  An  instant's 
glance,  however,  would  have  assured  one  that 
it  was  not  a  dog,  but  a  full-grown  wolf.  From 
the  days  of  its  puppyhood  Wabi  had  taught  it 
in  the  ways  of  dogdom,  yet  had  the  animal 
perversely  clung  to  its  wild  instincts.  A  weak- 
ness in  that  thong,  a  slip  of  the  collar,  and 
Wolf  would  have  bounded  joyously  into  the 
forests  to  seek  for  ever  the  packs  of  his  fathers. 
Now  the  babeesh  rope  was  taut,  Wolf's  muzzle 
was  turned  half  to  the  sky,  his  ears  were  alert, 
half-sounding  notes  rattled  in  his  throat. 
65 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

"There  is  something  near  our  camp!"  an- 
nounced the  Indian  boy,  drawing  himself  back 
quickly.  "Muky — " 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  long  mournful 
howl  from  the  captive  wolf. 

Mukoki  had  jumped  to  his  feet  with  the 
alertness  of  a  cat,  and  now  with  his  gun  in  his 
hand  slunk  around  the  edge  of  the  shelter  and 
buried  himself  in  the  gloom.  Roderick  lay 
quiet  while  Wabi,  seizing  the  remaining  rifle, 
followed  him. 

"Lie  over  there  in  the  dark,  Rod,  where  the 
firelight  doesn't  show  you  up,"  he  cautioned 
in  a  low  voice.  "Probably  it  is  only  some  ani- 
mal that  has  stumbled  on  to  our  camp,  but  we 
want  to  make  sure." 

Ten  minutes  later  the  young  hunter  returned 
alone. 

"False  alarm!"  he  laughed  cheerfully. 
"There's  a  part  of  a  carcass  of  a  red  deer  up 
the  creek  a  bit.  It  has  been  killed  by  wolves, 
and  Wolf  smells  some  of  his  own  blood  com- 
ing in  to  the  feast.  Muky  has  set  traps  there 
66 


THE  HUNTER'S  LIFE 

and  we  may  have  our  first  scalp  in  the  morn- 
ing." 

"Where  is  Mukoki?" 

"On  watch.  He  is  going  to  keep  guard  un- 
til a  little  after  midnight,  and  then  I'll  turn 
out.  We  can't  be  too  careful,  with  the  Woon- 
gas  in  the  neighborhood." 

Rod  shifted  himself  uneasily. 

"What  shall  we  do — to-morrow?"  he 
asked. 

"Get  out!"  replied  Wabi  with  emphasis. 
"That  is,  if  you  are  able  to  travel.  From 
what  Mukoki  tells  me,  and  from  what  you  and 
I  already  know,  Woonga's  people  must  be  in 
the  forests  beyond  the  lake.  We'll  cut  a  trail 
up  the  Ombabika  for  two  or  three  days  before 
we  strike  camp.  You  and  Muky  can  start  out 
as  soon  as  it  is  light  enough." 

"And  you — "  began  Rod. 

"Oh,  I'm  going  to  take  a  run  back  over  our 

old  wolf-trail  and  collect  the  scalps  we  shot 

to-day.    There's  a  month's  salary  back  there 

for  you,  Rod !   Now,  let's  turn  in.    Good  night 

67 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

— sleep  tight — and  be  sure  to  wake  up  early 
in  the  morning." 

The  boys,  exhausted  by  the  adventures  of 
the  day,  were  soon  in  profound  slumber.  And 
though  midnight  came,  and  hour  after  hour 
passed  between  then  and  dawn,  the  faithful 
Mukoki  did  not  awaken  them.  Never  for  a 
moment  neglecting  his  caution  the  old  Indian 
watched  tirelessly  over  the  camp.  With  the 
first  appearance  of  day  he  urged  the  fire  into 
a  roaring  blaze,  raked  out  a  great  mass  of 
glowing  coals,  and  proceeded  to  get  break- 
fast. Wabi  discovered  him  at  this  task  when 
he  awoke  from  his  slumber. 

"I  didn't  think  you  would  play  this  trick  on 
me,  Muky,"  he  said,  a  flush  of  embarrassment 
gathering  in  his  brown  face.  "It's  awfully 
good  of  you,  and  all  that,  but  I  wish  you 
wouldn't  treat  me  as  if  I  were  a  child  anj 
longer,  old  friend!" 

He  placed  his  hand  affectionately  upon  the 
kneeling  Mukoki's  shoulder,  and  the  old  hunt- 
er looked  up  at  him  with  a  happy,  satisfied 
68 


THE  HUNTER'S  LIFE 

grin  on  his  weather-beaten  visage,  wrinkled 
and  of  the  texture  of  leather  by  nearly  fifty 
years  of  life  in  the  wilderness.  It  was  Mu- 
koki  who  had  first  carried  the  baby  Wabi 
about  the  woods  upon  his  shoulders ;  it  was  he 
who  had  played  with  him,  cared  for  him,  and 
taught  him  in  the  ways  of  the  wild  in  early 
childhood,  and  it  was  he  who  had  missed  him 
most,  with  little  Minnetaki,  when  he  went 
away  to  school.  All  the  love  in  the  grim  old 
redskin's  heart  was  for  the  Indian  youth  and 
his  sister,  and  to  them  Mukoki  was  a  second 
father,  a  silent,  watchful  guardian  and  com- 
rade. This  one  loving  touch  of  Wabi's  hand 
was  ample  reward  for  the  long  night's  duty, 
and  his  pleasure  expressed  itself  in  two  or 
three  low  chuckling  grunts. 

"Had  heap  bad  day,"  he  replied.  "Very 
much  tired.  Me  feel  good — better  than 
sleep  1"  He  rose  to  his  feet  and  handed  Wabi 
the  long  fork  with  which  he  manipulated  the 
meat  on  the  spits.  "You  can  tend  to  that,"  he 
added.  "I  go  see  traps." 
69 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Rod,  who  had  awakened  and  overheard 
these  last  remarks,  called  out  from  the  shack: 

"Wait  a  minute,  Mukoki.  I'm  going  with 
you.  If  you've  got  a  wolf,  I  want  to  see  him.'5 

"Got  one  sure  Jnuff,"  grinned  the  old  In- 
dian. 

In  a  few  minutes  Rod  came  out,  full} 
dressed  and  with  a  much  healthier  color  in  his 
face  than  when  he  went  to  bed  the  preceding 
night.  He  stood  before  the  fire,  stretched  one 
arm  then  the  other,  gave  a  slight  grimace  of 
pain,  and  informed  his  anxious  comrades  that 
he  seemed  to  be  as  well  as  ever,  except  that  hio 
arm  and  side  were  very  sore. 

Walking  slowly,  that  Rod  might  "find  him- 
self," as  Wabi  expressed  it,  the  two  went  up 
the  river.  It  was  a  dull  gray  morning  and 
occasionally  large  flakes  of  snow  fell,  giving 
evidence  that  before  the  day  was  far  advanced 
another  storm  would  set  in.  Mukoki's  traps 
were  not  more  than  an  eighth  of  a  mile  from 
camp,  and  as  the  two  rounded  a  certain  bend 
in  the  river  the  old  hunter  suddenly  stopped 
70 


THE  HUNTER'S  LIFE 

with  a  huge  grunt  of  satisfaction.  Following 
the  direction  in  which  he  pointed  Rod  saw  a 
dark  object  lying  in  the  snow  a  short  distance 
away. 

"That's  heem!"  exclaimed  the  Indian. 

As  they  approached,  the  object  became  ani- 
mate, pulling  and  tearing  in  the  snow  as 
though  in  the  agonies  of  death.  A  few  mo- 
ments more  and  they  were  close  up  to  the  cap- 
tive. 

''She  wolf!"  explained  Mukoki. 

He  gripped  the  ax  he  had  brought  with  him 
and  approached  within  a  few  feet  of  the 
crouching  animal.  Rod  could  see  that  one  of 
the  big  steel  traps  had  caught  the  wolf  on  the 
forward  leg  and  that  the  other  had  buried  its 
teeth  in  one  of  the  hind  legs.  Thus  held  the 
doomed  animal  could  make  little  effort  to  pro- 
tect itself  and  crouched  in  sullen  quiet,  its 
white  fangs  gleaming  in  a  noiseless,  defiant 
snarl,  its  eyes  shining  with  pain  and  anger, 
and  with  only  its  thin  starved  body,  which 
jerked  and  trembled  as  the  Indian  came 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

nearer,  betraying  signs  of  fear.  To  Rod  it 
might  have  been  a  pitiful  sight  had  not  there 
come  to  him  a  thought  of  the  preceding  night 
and  of  his  own  and  Wabi's  narrow  escape  from 
the  pack. 

Two  or  three  quick  blows  of  the  ax  and  the 
wolf  was  dead.  With  a  skill  which  can  only 
be  found  among  those  of  his  own  race,  Mukoki 
drew  his  knife,  cut  deftly  around  the  wolf's 
head  just  below  the  ears,  and  with  one  down- 
ward, one  upward,  and  two  sidewise  jerks  tore 
off  the  scalp. 

Suddenly,  without  giving  a  thought  to  his 
speech,  there  shot  from  Rod, 

"Is  that  the  way  you  scalp  people?" 

Mukoki  looked  up,  his  jaw  fell — and  then 
he  gave  the  nearest  thing  to  a  real  laugh  that 
Rod  ever  heard  come  from  between  his  lips. 
When  Mukoki  laughed  it  was  usually  in  a 
half-chuckle,  a  half-gurgle — something  that 
neither  Rod  nor  Wabi  could  have  imitated  if 
they  had  tried  steadily  for  a  month. 

"Never  scalped  white  people,"  the  old  In- 
72 


THE   HUNTER'S   LIFE 

dian  shot  back.  "Father  did  when— young 
man.  Did  great  scalp  business!" 

Mukoki  had  not  done  chuckling  to  himself 
even  when  they  reached  camp. 

Scarcely  ten  minutes  were  taken  in  eating 
breakfast.  Snow  was  already  beginning  to  fall, 
and  if  the  hunters  took  up  their  trail  at  once 
their  tracks  would  undoubtedly  be  entirely  ob- 
literated by  midday,  which  was  the  best  pos- 
sible thing  that  could  happen  for  them  in  the 
Woonga  country.  On  the  other  hand,  Wabi 
was  anxious  to  follow  back  over  the  wolf-trail 
before  the  snow  shut  it  in.  There  was  no  dan- 
ger of  their  becoming  separated  and  lost,  for 
it  was  agreed  that  Rod  and  Mukoki  should 
travel  straight  up  the  frozen  river.  Wabi 
would  overtake  them  before  nightfall. 

Arming  himself  with  his  rifle,  revolver, 
knife,  and  a  keen-edged  belt-ax,  the  Indian 
boy  lost  no  time  in  leaving  camp.  A  quarter 
of  an  hour  later  Wabi  came  out  cautiously  on 
the  end  of  the  lake  where  had  occurred  the  un- 
equal duel  between  the  old  bull  moose  and  the 
73 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

wolves.  A  single  glance  told  him  what  the  out- 
come of  that  duel  had  been.  Twenty  rods  out 
upon  the  snow  he  saw  parts  of  a  great  skeleton, 
and  a  huge  pair  of  antlers. 

As  he  stood  on  the  arena  of  the  mighty 
battle,  Wabi  would  have  given  a  great  deal  if 
Rod  could  have  been  with  him.  There  lay  the 
heroic  old  moose,  now  nothing  more  than  a 
skeleton.  But  the  magnificent  head  and  horns 
still  remained — the  largest  head  that  the  In- 
dian youth,  in  all  his  wilderness  life,  had  ever 
seen — and  it  occurred  to  him  that  if  this  head 
could  be  preserved  and  taken  back  to  civiliza- 
tion it  would  be  worth  a  hundred  dollars  or 
more.  That  the  old  bull  had  put  up  a  magnifi- 
cent fight  was  easily  discernible.  Fifty  feet 
away  were  the  bones  of  a  wolf,  and  almost  un- 
der the  skeleton  of  the  moose  were  those  of 
another.  The  heads  of  both  still  remained, 
and  Wabi,  after  taking  their  scalps,  hurried 
on  over  the  trail. 

Half-way  across  the  lake,  where  he  had 
taken  his  last  two  shots,  were  the  skeletons  of 
74 


THE  HUNTER'S  LIFE 

two  more  wolves,  and  in  the  edge  of  the  spruce 
forest  he  found  another.  This  animal  had  evi- 
dently been  wounded  farther  back  and  had 
later  been  set  upon  by  some  of  the  pack  and) 
killed.  Half  a  mile  deeper  in  the  forest  he' 
came  upon  a  spot  where  he  had  emptied  five 
shells  into  the  pack  and  here  he  found  the 
bones  of  two  more  wolves.  He  had  seven 
scalps  in  his  possession  when  he  turned  back 
over  the  home  trail. 

Beside  the  remains  of  the  old  bull  Wabi 
paused  again.  He  knew  that  the  Indians  fre- 
quently preserved  moose  and  caribou  heads 
through  the  winter  by  keeping  them  frozen, 
and  the  head  at  his  feet  was  a  prize  worth 
some  thought.  But  how  could  he  keep  it  pre- 
served until  their  return,  months  later?  He 
could  not  suspend  it  from  the  limb  of  a  tree, 
as  was  the  custom  when  in  camp,  for  it  would 
either  be  stolen  by  some  passing  hunter  or 
spoiled  by  the  first  warm  days  of  spring.  Sud- 
denly an  idea  came  to  him.  Why  could  it  not 
be  preserved  in  what  white  hunters  called  an 
75 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

"Indian  ice-box"?  In  an  instant  he  was  acting 
upon  this  inspiration.  It  was  not  a  small  task 
to  drag  the  huge  head  to  the  shelter  of  the 
tamaracks,  where,  safely  hidden  from  view,  he 
made  a  closer  examination.  The  head  was 
gnawed  considerably  by  the  wolves,  but  Wabi 
had  seen  worse  ones  skilfully  repaired  by  the 
Indians  at  the  Post. 

Under  a  dense  growth  of  spruce,  where  the 
rays  of  the  sun  seldom  penetrated,  the  Indian 
boy  set  to  work  with  his  belt-ax.  For  an  hour 
and  a  half  he  worked  steadily,  and  at  the  end 
of  that  time  had  dug  a  hole  in  the  frozen  earth 
three  feet  deep  and  four  feet  square.  This  hole 
he  now  lined  with  about  two  inches  of  snow, 
packed  as  tight  as  he  could  jam  it  with  the  butt 
of  his  gun.  Then  placing  in  the  head  he 
packed  snow  closely  about  it  and  afterward 
filled  in  the  earth,  stamping  upon  the  hard 
chunks  with  his  feet.  When  all  was  done  he 
concealed  the  signs  of  his  work  under  a  cover- 
ing of  snow,  blazed  two  trees  with  his  ax,  and 
resumed  his  journey. 

76 


THE  HUNTER'S  LIFE 

"There  is  thirty  dollars  for  each  of  us  if 
there's  a  cent,"  he  mused  softly,  as  he  hurried 
toward  the  Ombabika.  "That  ground  won't 
thaw  out  until  June.  A  moose-head  and  eight 
scalps  at  fifteen  dollars  each  isn't  bad  for  one 
day's  work,  Rod,  old  boy!" 

He  had  been  absent  for  three  hours.  It  had 
been  snowing  steadily  and  by  the  time  he 
reached  their  old  camp  the  trail  left  by  Rod 
and  Mukoki  was  already  partly  obliterated, 
showing  that  they  had  secured  an  early  start  up 
the  river. 

Bowing  his  head  in  the  white  clouds  falling 
silently  about  him,  Wabi  started  in  swift  pur- 
suit. He  could  not  see  ten  rods  ahead  of  him, 
so  dense  was  the  storm,  and  at  times  one  side 
or  the  other  of  the  river  was  lost  to  view.  Con- 
ditions could  not  have  been  better  for  their 
flight  out  of  the  Woonga  country,  thought  the 
young  hunter.  By  nightfall  they  would  be 
many  miles  up  the  river,  and  no  sign  would  be 
left  behind  to  reveal  their  former  presence  or 
to  show  in  which  direction  they  had  gone.  For 
77 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

two  hours  he  followed  tirelessly  over  the  trail, 
which  became  more  and  more  distinct  as  he 
proceeded,  showing  that  he  was  rapidly  gain- 
ing on  his  comrades.  But  even  now,  though 
the  trail  was  fresher  and  deeper,  so  disguised 
had  it  become  by  falling  snow  that  a  passing 
hunter  might  have  thought  a  moose  or  caribou 
had  passed  that  way. 

At  the  end  of  the  third  hour,  by  which  time 
he  figured  that  he  had  made  at  least  ten  miles, 
Wabi  sat  down  to  rest,  and  to  refresh  himself 
with  the  lunch  which  he  had  taken  from  the 
camp  that  morning.  He  was  surprised  at 
Rod's  endurance.  That  Mukoki  and  the  white 
boy  were  still  three  or  four  miles  ahead  of  him 
he  did  not  doubt,  unless  they,  too,  had  stopped 
for  dinner.  This,  on  further  thought,  he  be- 
lieved was  highly  probable. 

The  wilderness  about  him  was  intensely 
still.  Not  even  the  twitter  of  a  snow-bird 
marred  its  silence.  For  a  long  time  Wabi  sat 
as  immovable  as  the  log  upon  which  he  had 
seated  himself,  resting  and  listening.  Such  a 
78 


THE  HUNTER'S  LIFE 

day  as  this  held  a  peculiar  and  unusual  f  asd « 
nation  for  him.  It  was  as  if  the  whole  world 
was  shut  out,  and  that  even  the  wild  things  of 
the  forest  dared  not  go  abroad  in  this  supreme 
moment  of  Nature's  handiwork,  when  with 
lavish  hand  she  spread  the  white  mantle  that 
was  to  stretch  from  the  border  to  Hudson  Bay. 

As  he  listened  there  came  to  him  suddenly  a 
sound  that  forced  from  between  his  lips  a  half- 
articulate  cry.  It  was  the  clear,  ringing  report 
of  a  rifle!  And  following  it  there  came  an- 
other, and  another,  until  in  quick  succession 
he  had  counted  five! 

What  did  it  mean?  He  sprang  to  his  feet, 
his  heart  thumping,  every  nerve  in  him  pre- 
pared for  action.  He  would  have  sworn  it  was 
Mukoki's  rifle — yet  Mukoki  would  not  have 
fired  at  game!  They  had  agreed  upon  that. 

Had  Rod  and  the  old  Indian  been  attacked? 
In  another  instant  Wabi  was  bounding  over 
the  trail  with  the  speed  of  a  deer. 


79 


CHAPTER  V 

MYSTERIOUS  SHOTS  IN  THE  WILDERNESS 

AS  the  Indian  youth  sped  over  the  trail 
in  the  direction  of  the  rifle-shots  he 
flung  his  usual  caution  to  the  winds. 
His  blood  thrilled  with  the  knowledge  that 
there  was  not  a  moment  to  lose — that  even 
now,  in  all  probability,  he  would  be  too  late  to 
assist  his  friends.  This  fear  was  emphasized 
by  the  absolute  silence  which  followed  the  five 
shots.  Eagerly,  almost  prayerfully,  he  listened 
as  he  ran  for  other  sounds  of  battle — for  the 
report  of  Mukoki's  revolver,  or  the  whoops  of 
the  victors.  If  there  had  been  an  ambush  it 
was  all  over  now.  Each  moment  added  to  his 
conviction,  and  as  he  thrust  the  muzzle  of  his 
gun  ahead  of  him,  his  finger  hovering  near  the 
trigger  and  his  snow-blinded  eyes  staring 
80 


SHOTS   IN   THE   WILDERNESS 

ahead  into  the  storm,  something  like  a  sob  es- 
caped his  lips. 

Ahead  of  him  the  stream  narrowed  until  it 
almost  buried  itself  under  a  mass  of  towering 
cedars.  The  closeness  of  the  forest  walls  now 
added  to  the  general  gloom,  intensified  by  the 
first  gray  pallor  of  the  Northern  dusk,  which 
begins  to  fall  in  these  regions  early  in  the  after- 
noon of  November  days.  For  a  moment,  just 
before  plunging  into  the  gloomy  trail  between 
the  cedars,  Wabi  stopped  and  listened.  'He 
heard  nothing  but  the  beating  of  his  own  heart, 
which  worked  like  a  trip-hammer  within  his 
breast.  The  stillness  was  oppressive.  And  the 
longer  he  listened  the  more  some  invisible 
power  seemed  to  hold  him  back.  It  was  not 
fear,  it  was  not  lack  of  courage,  but — 

What  was  there  just  beyond  those  cedars, 
lurking  cautiously  in  the  snow  gloom? 

With  instinct  that  was  almost  animal  in  its 

unreasonableness  Wabi  sank  upon  his  knees. 

He  had  seen  nothing,  he  had  heard  nothing; 

but  he  crouched  close,  until  he  was  no  larger 

81 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

than  a  waiting  wolf,  and  there  was  a  deadly 
earnestness  in  the  manner  in  which  he  turned 
his  rifle  into  the  deeper  gloom  of  those  close- 
knit  walls  of  forest.  Something  was  approach- 
ing, cautiously,  stealthily,  and  with  extreme 
slowness.  The  Indian  boy  felt  that  this  was  so, 
and  yet  if  his  life  had  depended  upon  it  he 
could  not  have  told  why.  He  huddled  himself 
lower  in  the  snow.  His  eyes  gleamed  with  ex- 
citement. Minute  after  minute  passed,  and 
still  there  came  no  sound.  Then,  from  far  up 
that  dusky  avenue  of  cedars,  there  came  the 
sudden  startled  chatter  of  a  moose-bird.  It 
was  a  warning  which  years  of  experience  had 
taught  Wabi  always  to  respect.  Perhaps  a  rov- 
ing fox  had  frightened  it,  perhaps  the  bird  had 
taken  to  noisy  flight  at  the  near  tread  of  a 
moose,  a  caribou,  or  a  deer.  But — 

To  Wabi  the  soft,  quick  notes  of  the  moose- 
bird  spelled  man!  In  an  instant  he  was  upon 
his  feet,  darting  quickly  into  the  sheltering 
cedars  of  the  shore.  Through  these  he  now 
made  his  way  with  extreme  caution,  keeping 
82 


SHOTS   IN   THE   WILDERNESS    ' 

close  to  the  bank  of  the  frozen  stream.  After 
a  little  he  paused  again  and  concealed  himself 
behind  the  end  of  a  fallen  log.  Ahead  of  him 
he  could  look  into  the  snow  gloom  between  the 
cedars,  and  whatever  was  coming  through  that 
gloom  would  have  to  pass  within  a  dozen 
yards  of  him.  Each  moment  added  to  his  ex- 
citement. He  heard  the  chatter  of  a  red  squir- 
rel, much  nearer  than  the  moose-bird.  Once 
he  fancied  that  he  heard  the  striking  of  two 
objects,  as  though  a  rifle  barrel  had  acci- 
dentally come  into  contact  with  the  dead  limb 
of  a  tree. 

Suddenly  the  Indian  youth  imagined  that  he 
saw  something — an  indistinct  shadow  that 
came  in  the  snow  gloom,  then  disappeared, 
ind  came  again.  He  brushed  the  water  and 
inow  from  his  eyes  with  one  of  his  mittened 
hands  and  stared  hard  and  steadily.  Once 
more  the  shadow  disappeared,  then  came 
again,  larger  and  more  distinct  than  before. 
There  was  no  doubt  now.  Whatever  had  star- 
tled the  moose-bird  was  coming  slowly,  noise- 
83 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

lessly.  Wabi  brought  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder. 
Life  and  death  hovered  with  his  anxious, 
naked  finger  over  the  gun  trigger.  But  he  was 
too  well  trained  in  the  ways  of  the  wilderness 
to  fire  just  yet.  Yard  by  yard  the  shadow  ap- 
proached, and  divided  itself  into  two  shadows. 
Wabi  could  now  see  that  they  were  men.  They 
were  advancing  in  a  cautious,  crouching  atti- 
tude, as  though  they  expected  to  meet  enemies 
somewhere  ahead  of  them.  Wabi's  heart 
thumped  with  joy.  There  could  be  no  surer 
sign  that  Mukoki  and  Rod  were  still  among 
the  living,  for  why  should  the  Woongas  em- 
ploy this  caution  if  they  had  already  success- 
fully ambushed  the  hunters?  With  the  chill 
of  a  cold  hand  at  his  throat  the  answer  flashed 
into  Wabigoon's  brain.  His  friends  had  been 
ambushed,  and  these  two  Woongas  were  steal- 
ing back  over  the  trail  to  slay  him! 

Very  slowly,  very  gently,  the  young  Indian's 
finger  pressed  against  the  trigger  of  his  rifle. 
A  dozen  feet  more,  and  then — 

The  shadows  had  stopped,  and  now  drew  to 
84 


SHOTS   IN   THE   WILDERNESS 

gether  as  if  in  consultation.  They  were  not 
more  than  twenty  yards  away,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment Wabi  lowered  his  rifle  and  listened  hard. 
He  could  hear  the  low  unintelligible  mutter- 
ings  of  their  conversation.  Then  there  came  to 
him  a  single  incautious  reply  from  one  of  the 
shadows. 

"All  right!" 

Surely  that  was  not  the  English  of  a 
Woonga!  It  sounded  like — 

In  a  flash  Wabi  had  called  softly. 

"Ho,  Muky— Muky— Rod!" 

In  another  moment  the  three  wolf  hunters 
were  together,  silently  wringing  one  another's 
hands,  the  death-like  pallor  of  Rod's  face  and 
the  tense  lines  in  the  bronzed  countenances  of 
Mukoki  and  Wabigoon  plainly  showing  the 
tremendous  strain  they  had  been  under. 

"You  shoot?"  whispered  Mukoki. 

"No!"  replied  Wabi,  his  eyes  widening  in 
surprise.  "Didn't  you  shoot?" 

"No!" 

Only  the  one  word  fell  from  the  old  Indian, 
85 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

but  it  was  filled  with  a  new  warning.  Whe 
had  fired  the  five  shots?  The  hunters  gazed 
blankly  at  one  another,  mute  questioning  in 
their  eyes.  Without  speaking,  Mukoki  pointed 
suggestively  to  the  clearer  channel  of  the  river 
beyond  the  cedars.  Evidently  he  thought  the 
shots  had  come  from  there.  Wabi  shook  his 
head. 

"There  was  no  trail,"  he  whispered.  "No- 
body has  crossed  the  river." 

"I  thought  they  were  there!"  breathed  Rod. 
He  pointed  into  the  forest.  "But  Mukoki  said 
no." 

For  a  long  time  the  three  stood  and  listened. 
Half  a  mile  back  in  the  forest  they  heard  the 
howl  of  a  single  wolf,  and  Wabi  flashed  a  curi- 
ous glance  into  the  eyes  of  the  old  Indian. 

"That's  a  man's  cry,"  he  whispered.  "The 
wolf  has  struck  a  human  trail.  It  isn't  mine!" 

"Nor  ours,"  replied  Rod. 

This  one  long  howl  of  the  wolf  was  the  only 
sound  that  broke  the  stillness  of  approaching 
night.  Mukoki  turned,  and  the  others  fol* 


aiHOTS   IN   THE   WILDERNESS 

lowed  in  his  trail.  A  quarter  of  a  mile  farther 
on  the  stream  became  still  narrower  and 
plunged  between  great  masses  of  rock  which 
rose  into  wild  and  precipitous  hills  that  were 
almost  mountains  a  little  way  back.  No  longer| 
could  the  hunters  now  follow  the  channel  of 
the  rushing  torrent.  Through  a  break  in  a 
gigantic  wall  of  rock  and  huge  boulders  led 
the  trail  of  Rod  and  Mukoki.  Ten  minutes 
more  and  the  three  had  clambered  to  the  top 
of  the  ridge  where,  in  the  lee  of  a  great  rock, 
the  remains  of  a  fire  were  still  burning.  Here 
the  old  Indian  and  his  companion  had  struck 
camp  and  were  waiting  for  Wabigoon  when 
they  heard  the  shots  which  they,  too,  believed 
were  those  of  an  ambush. 

A  comfortable  shelter  of  balsam  had  al- 
ready been  erected  against  the  rock,  and  close 
beside  the  fire,  where  Mukoki  had  dropped  it 
at  the  sound  of  the  shots,  was  a  large  piece  of 
spitted  venison.  The  situation  was  ideal  for  a 
camp  and  after  the  hard  day's  tramp  through 
the  snow  the  young  wolf  hunters  regarded  it 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

with  expressions  of  pleasure,  in  spite  of  the 
enemies  whom  they  knew  might  be  lurking 
near  them.  Both  Wabi  and  Rod  had  accepted 
the  place  as  their  night's  home,  and  were  stir- 
ring up  the  fire,  when  their  attention  was 
drawn  to  the  singular  attitude  of  Mukoki. 
The  old  warrior  stood  leaning  on  his  rifle, 
speechless  and  motionless,  his  eyes  regarding 
the  process  of  rekindling  the  fire  with  mute 
disapprobation.  Wabi,  poised  on  one  knee, 
looked  at  him  questioningly. 

"No  make  more  fire,"  said  the  old  Indian, 
shaking  his  head.  "No  dare  stay  here.  Go  on 
— beyond  mountain  I" 

Mukoki  straightened  himself  and  stretched 
a  long  arm  toward  the  north. 

"River  go  like  much  devil  'long  edge  of 
mountain,"  he  continued.  "Make  heap  noise 
through  rock,  then  make  swamp  thick  for  cow 
moose — then  run  through  mountain  and  make 
wide,  smooth  river  once  more.  We  go  over 
mountain.  Snow  all  night.  Morning  come — 
no  trail  for  Woonga.  We  stay  here — make  big 
88 


SHOTS   IN   THE   WILDERNESS 

trail  in  morning.   Woonga  follow  like  devil, 
ver'  plain  to  see!" 

Wabi  rose  to  his  feet,  his  face  showing  the 
keenness  of  his  disappointment.  Since  early 
morning  he  had  been  traveling,  even  running 
at  times,  and  he  was  tired  enough  to  risk  will- 
ingly a  few  dangers  for  the  sake  of  sleep  and 
supper.  Rod  was  in  even  worse  condition, 
though  his  trail  had  been  much  shorter.  For 
a  few  moments  the  two  boys  looked  at  each 
other  in  silence,  neither  attempting  to  conceal 
the  lack  of  favor  with  which  Mukoki's  sug- 
gestion was  received.  But  Wabi  was  too  wise 
openly  to  oppose  the  old  pathfinder.  If  Mu- 
koki  said  that  it  was  dangerous  for  them  to  re- 
main where  they  were  during  the  night — well, 
it  was  dangerous,  and  it  would  be  foolish  of 
him  to  dispute  it.  He  knew  Mukoki  to  be  the 
greatest  hunter  of  his  tribe,  a  human  blood- 
hound on  the  trail,  and  what  he  said  was  law. 
So  with  a  cheerful  grin  at  Rod,  who  needed 
all  the  encouragement  that  could  be  given  to 
him,  Wabi  began  the  readjustment  of  the  pack 
80 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

which  he  had  flung  from  his  shoulders  a  few 
minutes  before. 

"Mountain  not  ver'  far.  Two — free  mile, 
then  camp,"  encouraged  Mukoki.  "Walk 
slow — have  big  supper." 

Only  a  few  articles  had  been  taken  from  the 
toboggan-sled  on  which  the  hunters  were  drag- 
ging the  greater  part  of  their  equipment  into 
the  wilderness,  and  Mukoki  soon  had  these 
packed  again.  The  three  adventurers  now  took 
up  the  new  trail  along  the  top  of  one  of  those 
wild  and  picturesque  ridges  which  both  the  In- 
dians and  white  hunters  of  this  great  North- 
land call  mountains.  Wabigoon  led,  weighted 
under  his  pack,  selecting  the  clearest  road  for 
the  toboggan  and  clipping  down  obstructing 
saplings  with  his  keen-edged  belt-ax.  A  dozen 
feet  behind  him  followed  Mukoki,  dragging 
the  sled;  and  behind  the  sled,  securely  tied 
with  a  thong  of  babeesh,  or  moose-skin  rope; 
slunk  the  wolf.  Rod,  less  experienced  in  mak- 
ing a  trail  and  burdened  with  a  lighter  pack, 
formed  the  rear  of  the  little  cavalcade. 
90 


SHOTS   IN   THE   WILDERNESS 

Darkness  was  now  falling  rapidly.  Though 
Wabigoon  was  not  more  than  a  dozen  yards 
ahead,  Rod  could  only  now  and  then  catch  a 
fleeting  vision  of  him  through  the  gloom.  Mu- 
koki,  doubled  over  in  his  harness,  was  hardly, 
more  than  a  blotch  in  the  early  night.  Only' 
the  wolf  was  near  enough  to  offer  companion- 
ship to  the  tired  and  down-spirited  youth. 
Rod's  enthusiasm  was  not  easily  cooled,  but 
just  now  he  mentally  wished  that,  for  this  one 
night  at  least,  he  was  back  at  the  Post,  with  the 
lovely  little  Minnetaki  relating  to  him  some 
legend  of  bird  or  beast  they  had  encountered 
that  day.  How  much  pleasanter  that  would 
be!  The  vision  of  the  bewitching  little  maiden 
was  suddenly  knocked  out  of  his  head  in  a 
most  unexpected  and  startling  way.  Mukoki 
had  paused  for  a  moment  and  Rod,  uncon- 
scious of  the  fact,  continued  on  his  journey  un- 
til he  tumbled  in  a  sprawling  heap  over  the 
sled,  knocking  Mukoki's  legs  completely  from 
under  him  in  his  fall.  When  Wabi  ran  back 
he  fov-oid  Rod  flattened  out,  face  downward, 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

and  Mukoki  entangled  in  his  sled  harness  on 
top  of  him. 

In  a  way  this  accident  was  fortunate.  Wabi, 
who  possessed  a  Caucasian  sense  of  humor, 
shook  with  merriment  as  he  gave  his  assistance, 
and  Rod,  after  he  had  dug  the  snow  from  his 
eyes  and  ears  and  had  emptied  a  handful  of  it 
from  his  neck,  joined  with  him. 

The  ridge  now  became  narrower  as  the  trio 
advanced.  On  one  side,  far  down,  could  be 
heard  the  thunderous  rush  of  the  river,  and 
from  the  direction  of  the  sound  Rod  knew  they 
were  near  a  precipice.  Great  beds  of  boulders 
and  broken  rock,  thrown  there  by  some  tu- 
multuous upheaval  of  past  ages,  now  impeded 
their  progress,  and  every  step  was  taken  with 
extreme  caution.  The  noise  of  the  torrent  be- 
came louder  and  louder  as  they  advanced  and 
on  one  side  of  him  Rod  now  thought  that  he 
could  distinguish  a  dim  massive  shadow  tow- 
ering above  them,  like  the  precipitous  side  of  a 
mountain.  A  few  steps  farther  and  Mukoki 
exchanged  places  with  Wabigoon. 
92 


SHOTS   IN   THE   WILDERNESS 

"Muky  has  been  here  before,"  cried  Wabi 
close  up  to  Rod's  ear.  His  voice  was  almost 
drowned  by  the  tumult  below.  "That's  where 
the  river  rushes  through  the  mountain !" 

Rod  forgot  his  fatigue  in  the  new  excite- 
ment. Never  in  his  wildest  dreams  of  adven- 
ture had  he  foreseen  an  hour  like  this.  Each 
step  seemed  to  bring  them  nearer  the  edge  of 
the  vast  chasm  through  which  the  river 
plunged,  and  yet  not  a  sign  of  it  could  he  see. 
He  strained  his  eyes  and  ears,  each  moment 
expecting  to  hear  the  warning  voice  of  the  old 
warrior.  With  a  suddenness  that  chilled  him 
he  saw  the  great  shadow  close  in  upon  them 
from  the  opposite  side,  and  for  the  first  time 
he  realized  their  position.  On  their  left  was 
the  precipice — on  their  right  the  sheer  wall  of 
the  mountain !  How  wide  was  the  ledge  along 
which  they  were  traveling?  His  foot  struck  a 
stick  under  the  snow.  Catching  it  up  he  flung 
it  out  into  space.  For  a  single  instant  he 
paused  to  listen,  but  there  came  no  sound  of  the 
falling  object.  The  precipice  was  very  near — 
93 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

a  little  chill  ran  up  his  spine.  It  was  a  sensa- 
tion he  had  never  experienced  in  walking  the 
streets  of  a  city! 

Though  he  could  not  see,  he  knew  that  the 
ledge  was  now  leading  them  up.  He  could 
hear  Wabigoon  straining  ahead  of  the  tobog- 
gan and  he  began  to  assist  by  pushing  on  the 
rear  of  the  loaded  sled.  For  half  an  hour  this 
upward  climb  continued,  until  the  sound  of 
the  river  had  entirely  died  away.  No  longer 
was  the  mountain  on  the  right.  Five  minutes 
later  Mukoki  called  a  halt. 

"On  top  mountain,"  he  said  briefly.  "Camp 
here!" 

Rod  could  not  repress  an  exclamation  of  joy, 
and  Wabigoon,  as  he  threw  off  his  harness, 
gave  a  suppressed  whoop.  Mukoki,  who 
seemed  tireless,  began  an  immediate  search  for 
a  site  for  their  camp  and  after  a  short  breath- 
ing-spell Rod  and  Wabi  joined  him.  The  spot 
chosen  was  in  the  shelter  of  a  huge  rock,  and 
while  Mukoki  cleaned  away  the  snow  the 
young  hunters  set  to  work  with  their  axes  in  a 
94 


SHOTS   IN   THE   WILDERNESS 

near  growth  of  balsam,  cutting  armful  after 
armful  of  the  soft  odorous  boughs.  Inside  of 
an  hour  a  comfortable  camp  was  completed, 
with  an  exhilarating  fire  throwing  its  crack- 
ling names  high  up  into  the  night  before  it. 

For  the  first  time  since  leaving  the  aban- 
doned camp  at  the  other  end  of  the  ridge  the 
hunters  fully  realized  how  famished  they 
were,  and  Mukoki  was  at  once  delegated  to 
prepare  supper  while  Wabi  and  Rod  searched 
in  the  darkness  for  their  night's  supply  of 
wood.  Fortunately  quite  near  at  hand  they 
discovered  several  dead  poplars,  the  best  fuel 
in  the  world  for  a  camp-fire,  and  by  the  time 
the  venison  and  coffee  were  ready  they  had 
collected  a  huge  pile  of  this,  together  with 
several  good-sized  backlogs. 

Mukoki  had  spread  the  feast  in  the  opening 
of  the  shelter  where  the  heat  of  the  fire,  re- 
flected from  the  face  of  the  rock,  fell  upon 
them  in  genial  warmth,  suffusing  their  faces 
with  a  most  comfortable  glow.  The  heat,  to- 
gether with  the  feast,  were  almost  overpower- 
95 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

ing  in  their  effects,  and  hardly  was  his  supper 
completed  when  Rod  felt  creeping  over  him  a 
drowsiness  which  he  attempted  in  vain  to  fight 
off  a  little  longer.  Dragging  himself  back  in 
the  shelter  he  wrapped  himself  in  his  blanket, 
burrowed  into  the  mass  of  balsam  boughs,  and 
passed  quickly  into  oblivion.  His  last  intelli- 
gible vision  was  Mukoki  piling  logs  upon  the 
fire,  while  the  flames  shot  up  a  dozen  feet  into 
the  air,  illumining  to  his  drowsy  eyes  for  an  in- 
stant a  wild  chaos  of  rock,  beyond  which  lay 
the  mysterious  and  impenetrable  blackness  of 
the  wilderness. 


CHAPTER  VI 

MUKOKI  DISTURBS  THE  ANCIENT  SKELETONS 

COMPLETELY  exhausted,  every  mus- 
cle in  his  aching  body  still  seeming  to 
strain  with  exertion,  the  night  was  one 
of  restless  and  uncomfortable  dreams  for 
Roderick  Drew.  While  Wabi  and  the  old  In- 
dian, veterans  in  wilderness  hardship,  slept  in 
peace  and  tranquillity,  the  city  boy  found 
himself  in  the  most  unusual  and  thrilling  situa- 
tions from  which  he  would  extricate  himself 
with  a  grunt  or  sharp  cry,  several  times  sitting 
bolt  upright  in  his  bed  of  balsam  until  he 
realized  where  he  was,  and  that  his  adventures 
were  only  those  of  dreamland. 

From  one  of  these  dreams  Rod  had  aroused 
himself  into  drowsy  wakefulness.   He  fancied 
that  he  had  heard  steps.  For  the  tenth  time  he 
97 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

raised  himself  upon  an  elbow,  stretched, 
rubbed  his  eyes,  glanced  at  the  dark,  inanimate 
forms  of  his  sleeping  companions,  and  snug- 
gled down  into  his  balsam  boughs  again.  A 
few  moments  later  he  sat  bolt  upright.  He 
could  have  sworn  that  he  heard  real  steps  this 
time — a  soft  cautious  crunching  in  the  snow 
very  near  his  head.  Breathlessly  he  listened, 
Not  a  sound  broke  the  silence  except  the  snap- 
ping of  a  dying  ember  in  the  fire.  Another 
dream!  Once  more  he  settled  back,  drawing 
his  blanket  closely  about  him.  Then,  for  a  full 
breath,  the  very  beating  of  his  heart  seemed  to 
cease. 

What  was  that! 

He  was  awake  now,  wide  awake,  with  every 
faculty  in  him  striving  to  arrange  itself.  He 
had  heard — a  step!  Slowly,  very  cautiously 
this  time,  he  raised  himself.  There  came  dis- 
tinctly to  his  ears  a  light  crunching  in  the 
snow.  It  seemed  back  of  the  shelter — then  was 
moving  away,  then  stopped.  The  flickering 
light  of  the  dying  fire  still  played  on  the  face 
98 


THE   ANCIENT   SKELETONS 

of  the  great  rock.  Suddenly,  at  the  very  end 
of  that  rock,  something  moved. 

Some  object  was  creeping  cautiously  upon 
the  sleeping  camp ! 

For  a  moment  his  thrilling  discovery  froze 
the  young  hunter  into  inaction.  But  in  a  mo- 
ment the  whole  situation  flashed  upon  him. 
The  Woongas  had  followed  them !  They  were 
about  to  fall  upon  the  helpless  camp !  Unex- 
pectedly one  of  his  hands  came  in  contact  with 
the  barrel  of  Wabi's  rifle.  The  touch  of  the 
cold  steel  aroused  him.  There  was  no  time  to 
awaken  his  companions.  Even  as  he  drew  the 
gun  to  him  he  saw  the  object  grow  larger  and 
larger  at  the  end  of  the  rock,  until  it  stood 
crouching,  as  if  about  to  spring. 

One  bated  breath — a  thunderous  report — a 
snarling  scream  of  pain,  and  the  camp  was 
awake ! 

"We're  attacked!"  cried  Rod.  "Quick— 
Wabi— Mukoki!" 

The  white  boy  was  on  his  knees  now,  the 
smoking  rifle  still  leveled  toward  the  rocks. 
99 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Out  there,  in  the  thick  shadows  beyond  the  fire, 
a  body  was  groveling  and  kicking  in  death 
agonies.  In  another  instant  the  gaunt  form  of 
the  old  warrior  was  beside  Rod,  his  rifle  at  his 
shoulder,  and  over  their  heads  reached  Wabi- 
goon's  arm,  the  barrel  of  his  heavy  revolver 
glinting  in  the  firelight. 

For  a  full  minute  they  crouched  there, 
breathless,  waiting. 

"They've  gone!"  broke  Wabi  in  a  tense 
whisper. 

"I  got  one  of  them !"  replied  Rod,  his  voice 
trembling  with  excitement. 

Mukoki  slipped  back  and  burrowed  a  hole 
through  the  side  of  the  shelter.  He  could  see 
nothing.  Slowly  he  slipped  out,  his  rifle  ready. 
The  others  could  hear  him  as  he  went.  Foot 
by  foot  the  old  warrior  slunk  along  in  the  deep 
gloom  toward  the  end  of  the  rock.  Now  he. 
was  almost  there,  now — 

The  young  hunters  saw  him  suddenly 
straighten.  There  came  to  them  a  low  chuck- 
100 


THE   ANCIENT   SKELETONS 

ling  grunt.  He  bent  over,  seized  an  object,  and 
flung  it  in  the  light  of  the  fire. 

"Heap  big  Woonga!  Kill  nice  fat  lynx!" 

With  a  wail,  half  feigned,  half  real,  Rod 
flung  himself  back  upon  the  balsam  while 
Wabi  set  up  a  roar  that  made  the  night  echo. 
Mukoki's  face  was  creased  in  a  broad  grin. 

"Heap  big  Woonga — heem!"  he  repeated, 
chuckling.  "Nice  fat  lynx  shot  well  in  face. 
No  look  like  bad  man  Woonga  to  Mukoki !" 

When  Rod  finally  emerged  from  his  den  to 
join  the  others  his  face  was  flushed  and  wore 
what  Wabi  described  as  a  "sheepish  grin." 

"It's  all  right  for  you  fellows  to  make  fun 
of  me,"  he  declared.  "But  what  if  they  had 
been  Woongas?  By  George,  if  we're  ever  at- 
tacked again  I  won't  do  a  thing.  I'll  let  you 
fellows  fight 'em  off!" 

In  spite  of  the  general  merriment  at  his  ex- 

i'pense,  Rod  was  immensely  proud  of  his  first 

lynx.  It  was  an  enormous  creature  of  its  kind, 

drawn  by  hunger  to  the  scraps  of  the  camp-fire 

101 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

feast;  and  it  was  this  animal,  as  it  cautiously 
inspected  the  camp,  that  the  young  hunter  had 
heard  crunching  in  the  snow.  Wolf,  whose  in- 
stinct had  told  him  what  a  mix-up  would 
mean,  had  slunk  into  his  shelter  without  be- 
traying his  whereabouts  to  this  arch-enemy  of 
his  tribe. 

With  the  craft  of  his  race,  Mukoki  was  skin- 
ning the  animal  while  it  was  still  warm. 

"You  go  back  bed,"  he  said  to  his  com- 
panions. "I  build  big  fire  again — then  sleep.'* 

The  excitement  of  his  adventure  at  least 
freed  Rod  from  the  unpleasantness  of  further 
dreams,  and  it  was  late  the  following  morning 
before  he  awoke  again.  He  was  astonished  to 
find  that  a  beautiful  sun  was  shining.  Wabi 
and  the  old  Indian  were  already  outside  pre- 
paring breakfast,  and  the  cheerful  whistling 
of  the  former  assured  Rod  that  there  was  now 
little  to  be  feared  from  the  Woongas.  With- 
out lingering  to  take  a  beauty  nap  he  joined 
them. 

102 


THE  ANCIENT   SKELETONS 

Everywhere  about  them  lay  white  winter. 
The  rocks,  the  trees,  and  the  mountain  behind 
them  were  covered  with  two  feet  of  snow  and 
upon  It  the  sun  shone  with  dazzling  brilliancy. 
But  it  was  not  until  Rod  looked  into  the  north 
that  he  saw  the  wilderness  in  all  of  its  gran- 
deur. The  camp  had  been  made  at  the  extreme 
point  of  the  ridge,  and  stretching  away  under 
his  eyes,  mile  after  mile,  was  the  vast  white 
desolation  that  reached  to  Hudson  Bay.  In 
speechless  wonder  he  gazed  down  upon  the 
unblazed  forests,  saw  plains  and  hills  unfold 
themselves  as  his  vision  gained  distance,  fol- 
lowed a  river  until  it  was  lost  in  the  bewilder- 
ing picture,  and  let  his  eyes  rest  here  and  there 
upon  the  glistening,  snow-smothered  bosoms 
of  lakes,  rimmed  in  by  walls  of  black  forest. 
This  was  not  the  wilderness  as  he  had  expected 
it  to  be,  nor  as  he  had  often  read  of  it  in  books. 
It  was  beautiful!  It  was  magnificent!  Hir 
heart  throbbed  with  pleasure  as  he  gazed 
down  on  it,  the  blood  rose  to  his  face  in  an 
103 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

excited  flush,  and  he  seemed  hardly  to  breathe 
in  his  tense  interest. 

Mukoki  had  come  up  beside  him  softly,  and 
spoke  in  his  low  guttural  voice. 

"Twent'  t'ousand  moose  down  there — twent' 
thousand  caribou-oo!  No  man — no  house— 
more  twent'  t'ousand  miles !" 

Roderick,  even  trembling  in  his  new  emo- 
tion, looked  into  the  old  warrior's  face.  In 
Mukoki's  eyes  there  was  a  curious,  thrilling 
gleam.  He  stared  straight  out  into  the  unend- 
ing distance  as  though  his  keen  vision  would 
penetrate  far  beyond  the  last  of  that  visible 
desolation — on  and  on,  even  to  the  grim  and 
uttermost  fastnesses  of  Hudson  Bay.  Wabi 
came  up  and  placed  his  hand  on  Rod's  shoul- 
der. 

"Muky  was  born  of!  there,"  he  said.  "Away 
beyond  where  we  can  see.  Those  were  his 
'hunting-grounds  when  a  boy.  See  that  moun- 
tain yonder?  You  might  take  it  for  a  cloud. 
It's  thirty  miles  from  here!  And  that  lake 
down  there — you  might  think  a  rifle-shot 
104 


THE   ANCIENT   SKELETONS 

would  reach  it — is  five  miles  away!  If  a  moose 
or  a  caribou  or  a  wolf  should  cross  it  now  you 
could  see  him." 

For  a  few  moments  longer  the  three  stood 
silent,  then  Wabi  and  the  old  Indian  returned 
to  the  fire  to  finish  the  preparation  of  break- 
fast, leaving  Rod  alone  in  his  enchantment. 
What  unsolved  mysteries,  what  unwritten 
tragedies,  what  romance,  what  treasure  of  gold 
that  vast  North  must  holdl  For  a  thousand, 
perhaps  a  million  centuries,  it  had  lain  thus 
undisturbed  in  the  embrace  of  nature;  few 
white  men  had  broken  its  solitudes,  and  the 
wild  things  still  lived  there  as  they  had  lived 
in  the  winters  of  ages  and  ages  ago. 

The  call  to  breakfast  came  almost  as  an  un- 
pleasant interruption  to  Rod.  But  it  did  not 
shock  his  appetite  as  it  had  his  romantic  fan- 
cies, and  he  performed  his  part  at  the  morning 
meal  with  considerable  credit.  Wabi  and  Mu- 
koki  had  already  decided  that  they  would  not 
take  up  the  trail  again  that  day  but  would  re- 
main in  their  present  camp  until  the  following 
105 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

morning.  There  were  several  reasons  for  this 
delay. 

"We  can't  travel  without  snow-shoes  now," 
explained  Wabi  to  Rod,  "and  we've  got  to  take 
a  day  off  to  teach  you  how  to  use  them.  Then, 
all  the  wild  things  are  lying  low.  Moose,  deer, 
caribou,  and  especially  wolves  and  fur  ani- 
mals, won't  begin  traveling  much  until  this 
afternoon  and  to-night,  and  if  we  took  up  the 
trail  now  we  would  have  no  way  of  telling 
what  kind  of  a  game  country  we  were  in.  And 
that  is  the  important  thing  just  now.  If  we 
strike  a  first-rate  game  country  during  the  next 
couple  days  we'll  stop  and  build  our  winter 
camp." 

"Then  you  believe  we  are  far  enough  away 
from  the  Woongas?"  asked  Rod. 

Mukoki  grunted. 

"No  believe  Woongas  come  over  mountain. 
Heap  good  game  country  back  there.  They 
stay." 

During  the  meal  the  white  boy  asked  a  hun- 
dred questions  about  the  vast  wilderness  which 
106 


THE   ANCIENT   SKELETONS 

lay  stretched  out  before  them  in  a  great  pano- 
rama, and  in  which  they  were  soon  to  bury 
themselves,  and  every  answer  added  to  his  en- 
thusiasm. Immediately  after  they  had  finished, 
eating  Rod  expressed  a  desire  to  begin  his 
study  in  snow-shoeing,  and  for  an  hour  after 
that  Wabi  and  Mukoki  piloted  him  back  and 
forth  along  the  ridge,  instructing  him  in  this 
and  in  that,  applauding  when  he  made  an  es- 
pecially good  dash  and  enjoying  themselves 
immensely  when  he  took  one  of  his  frequent 
tumbles  into  the  snow.  By  noon  Rod  secretly 
believed  that  he  was  becoming  quite  an  adept. 

Although  the  day  in  camp  was  an  exceed- 
ingly pleasant  one  for  Rod,  he  could  riot  but 
observe  that  at  times  something  seemed  to  be 
troubling  Wabi.  Twice  he  discovered  the  In- 
dian youth  alone  within  the  shelter  sitting  in 
silent  and  morose  dejection,  and  finally  he  in- 
jisted  upon  an  explanation. 

"I  want  you  to  tell  me  what  the  trouble  is, 
Wabi,"  he  demanded.  "What  has  gone 
wrong?" 

107 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Wabi  jumped  to  his  feet  with  a  little  laugh. 

"Did  you  ever  have  a  dream  that  bothered 
you,  Rod?"  he  asked.  "Well,  I  had  one  last 
night,  and  since  then — somehow — I  can't  keep 
from  worrying  about  the  people  back  at  the 
Post,  and  especially  about  Minnetaki.  It's  all 
— what  do  you  call  it — bosh?  Listen!  Wasn't 
that  Mukoki's  whistle?" 

As  he  paused  Mukoki  came  running  around 
the  end  of  the  rock. 

"See  fun!"  he  cried  softly.  "Quick— see 
heem  quick!" 

He  turned  and  darted  toward  the  precipi- 
tous edge  of  the  ridge,  closely  followed  by  the 
two  boys. 

"Cari-boo-oo!"  he  whispered  excitedly  as 
they  came  up  beside  him.  "Cari-boo-oo— 
making  big  play!" 

I  He  pointed  down  into  the  snowy  wilderness. 
'Three-quarters  of  a  mile  away,  though  to  Rod 
apparently  not  more  than  a  third  of  that  dis- 
tance from  where  they  stood,  half  a  dozen  ani- 
mals were  disporting  themselves  in  a  singular 
108 


THE  ANCIENT   SKELETONS 

fashion  in  a  meadow-like  opening  between  the 
mountain  and  a  range  of  forest.  It  was  Rod's 
first  real  glimpse  of  that  wonderful  animal  of 
the  North  of  which  he  had  read  so  much,  the 
caribou — commonly  known  beyond  the  Sixti- 
eth Degree  as  the  reindeer;  and  at  this  mo- 
ment those  below  him  were  indulging  in  the 
queer  play  known  in  the  Hudson  Bay  regions 
as  the  "caribou  dance." 

"What's  the  matter  with  them?"  he  asked, 
his  voice  quivering  with  excitement. 
"What—" 

"Making  big  fun!"  chuckled  Mukoki, 
drawing  the  boy  closer  to  the  rock  that  con- 
cealed them. 

Wabi  had  thrust  a  finger  in  his  mouth  and 
now  held  it  above  his  head,  the  Indian's  truest 
guide  for  discovering  the  direction  of  the 
wind.  The  lee  side  of  his  finger  remained  cold 
and  damp,  while  that  side  upon  which  the 
breeze  fell  was  quickly  dried. 

"The  wind  is  toward  us,  Muky,"  he  an- 
nounced. "There's  a  fine  chance  for  a  shot 
109 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

You  go!  Rod  and  I  will  stay  here  and  watch 
you." 

Roderick  heard — knew  that  Mukoki  was 
creeping  back  to  the  camp  for  his  rifle,  but  not 
for  an  instant  did  his  spellbound  eyes  leave  the 
spectacle  below  him.  Two  other  animals  had 
joined  those  in  the  open.  He  could  see  the  sun 
glistening  on  their  long  antlers  as  they  tossed 
their  heads  in  their  amazing  antics.  Now 
three  or  four  of  them  would  dash  away  with 
the  speed  of  the  wind,  as  though  the  deadliest 
of  enemies  were  close  behind  them.  Two  or 
three  hundred  yards  away  they  would  stop 
with  equal  suddenness,  whirl  about  in  a  circle, 
as  though  flight  were  interrupted  on  all  sides 
of  them,  then  tear  back  with  lightning  speed 
to  rejoin  the  herd.  In  twos  and  threes  and 
fours  they  performed  these  evolutions  again 
and  again.  But  there  was  another  antic  that 
held  Rod's  eyes,  and  if  it  had  not  been  so  new 
and  wonderful  to  him  he  would  have  laughed, 
as  Wabi  was  doing — silently — behind  him. 
From  out  of  the  herd  would  suddenly  dash 
no 


THE   ANCIENT   SKELETONS 

one  of  the  agile  creatures,  whirl  about,  jump 
and  kick,  and  finally  bounce  up  and  down  on 
all  four  feet,  as  though  performing  a  comedy 
sketch  in  pantomime  for  the  amusement  of  its 
companions ;  and  when  this  was  done  it  would 
start  out  in  another  mad  flight,  with  others  of 
the  herd  at  its  heels. 

"They  are  the  funniest,  swiftest,  and  shrewd- 
est animals  in  the  North,"  said  Wabi.  "They 
can  smell  you  over  a  mountain  if  the  wind  is 
right,  and  hear  you  for  half  a  mile.  Look!" 

He  pointed  downward  over  Rod's  shoulder. 
Mukoki  had  already  reached  the  base  of  the 
ridge  and  was  stealing  straight  out  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  caribou.  Rod  gave  a  surprised 
gasp. 

"Great  Scott!  They'll  see  him,  won't  they?" 
he  cried. 

"Not  if  Mukoki  knows  himself,"  smiled  the 
Indian  youth.  "Remember  that  we  are  look- 
ing down  on  things.  Everything  seems  clear 
Ind  open  to  us,  while  in  reality  it's  quite  thick 
.down  there.  I'll  bet  Muky  can't  see  one  hun- 
iii 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

dred  yards  ahead  of  him.  He  has  got  his  bear- 
ings and  will  go  as  straight  as  though  he  was 
on  a  blazed  trail ;  but  he  won't  see  the  caribou 
until  he  comes  to  the  edge  of  the  open." 

Each  minute  now  added  to  Rod's  excite- 
ment. Each  of  those  minutes  brought  the  old 
warrior  nearer  his  game.  Seldom,  thought 
Rod,  had  such  a  scene  been  unfolded  to  the 
eyes  of  a  white  boy.  The  complete  picture — 
the  playful  rompings  of  the  dumb  children  of 
the  wilderness;  the  stealthy  approach  of  the 
old  Indian ;  every  rock,  every  tree  that  was  to 
play  its  part — all  were  revealed  to  their  eyes. 
Not  a  phase  in  this  drama  in  wild  life  escaped 
them.  Five  minutes,  ten,  fifteen  passed.  They 
could  see  Mukoki  as  he  stopped  and  lifted  a 
hand  to  test  the  wind.  Then  he  crouched,  ad- 
vancing foot  by  foot,  yard  by  yard,  so  slowly 
that  he  seemed  to  be  on  his  hands  and  knees. 

"He  can  hear  them,  but  he  can't  see  them!" 
breathed  Wabigoon.  "See!  He  places  his  ear 
to  the  ground!  Now  he  has  got  his  bearings 
again — as  straight  as  a  die!  Good  old  Muky!" 

112 


THE  ANCIENT   SKELETONS 

The  old  Indian  crept  on.  In  his  excitement 
Rod  clenched  his  hands  and  he  seemed  to  live 
without  breathing.  Would  Mukoki  never 
shoot?  Would  he  never  shoot?  He  seemed 
now  to  be  within  a  stone's  throw  of  the  herd. 

"How  far,  Wabi?" 

"Four  hundred  yards,  perhaps  five,"  replied 
the  Indian.  "It's  a  long  shot!  He  can't  see 
them  yet." 

Rod  gripped  his  companion's  arm. 

Mukoki  had  stopped.  Down  and  down  he 
slunk,  until  he  became  only  a  blot  in  the  snow. 

"Now!" 

There  came  a  moment  of  startled  silence.  In 
the  midst  of  their  play  the  animals  in  the  open 
stood  for  a  single  instant  paralyzed  by  a 
knowledge  of  impending  danger,  and  in  that 
instant  there  came  to  the  young  hunters  the  re- 
port of  Mukoki's  rifle. 

"No  good!"  cried  Wabi. 

In  his  excitement  he  leaped  to  his  feet.  The 
caribou  had  turned  and  the  whole  eight  of 
them  were  racing  across  the  open.  Another 
113 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

shot,  and  another — three  in  quick  succession, 
and  one  of  the  fleeing  animals  fell,  scrambled 
to  its  knees — and  plunged  on  again!  A  fifth 
shot — the  last  in  Mukoki's  rifle!  Again  the 
wounded  animal  fell,  struggled  to  its  knees — 
to  its  forefeet — and  fell  again. 

"Good  work!  Five  hundred  yards  if  it  was 
a  foot!"  exclaimed  Wabigoon  with  a  relieved 
laugh.  "Fresh  steak  for  supper,  Rod!" 

Mukoki  came  out  into  the  open,  reloading 
his  rifle.  Quickly  he  moved  across  the  wilder- 
ness playground,  now  crimson  with  blood,  un- 
sheathed his  knife,  and  dropped  upon  his 
knees  close  to  the  throat  of  the  slain  animal. 

"I'll  go  down  and  give  him  a  little  help, 
Rod,"  said  Wabi.  "Your  legs  are  pretty  sore, 
and  it's  a  hard  climb  down  there ;  so  if  you  will 
keep  up  the  fire,  Mukoki  and  I  will  bring 
back  the  meat." 

During  the  next  hour  Rod  busied  himself 
with  collecting  firewood  for  the  night  and  in 
practising  with  his  snow-shoes.  He  was  aston- 
ished to  find  how  swiftly  and  easily  he  could 
114 


THE   ANCIENT   SKELETONS 

travel  in  them,  and  was  satisfied  that  he  could 
make  twenty  miles  a  day  even  as  a  tenderfoot. 

Left  to  his  own  thoughts  he  found  his  mind 
recurring  once  more  to  the  Woongas  and 
Minnetaki.  Why  was  Wabi  worried?  In- 
wardly he  did  not  believe  that  it  was  a  dream 
alone  that  was  troubling  him.  There  was  still 
some  cause  for  fear.  Of  that  he  was  certain. 
And  why  would  not  the  Woongas  penetrate 
beyond  this  mountain?  He  had  asked  himself 
this  question  a  score  of  times  during  the  last 
twenty-four  hours,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
both  Mukoki  and  Wabigoon  were  quite  satis- 
fied that  they  were  well  out  of  the  Woonga 
territory. 

It  was  growing  dusk  when  Wabi  and  the  old 
Indian  returned  with  the  meat  of  the  caribou. 
No  time  was  lost  in  preparing  supper,  for  the 
hunters  had  decided  that  the  next  day's  trail 
would  begin  with  dawn  and  probably  end  with 
darkness,  which  meant  that  they  would  require 
all  the  rest  they  could  get  before  then.  They 
were  all  eager  to  begin  the  winter's  hunt.  That 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

day  Mukoki's  eyes  had  glistened  at  each  fresh 
track  he  encountered.  Wabi  and  Rod  were 
filled  with  enthusiasm.  Even  Wolf,  now  and 
then  stretching  his  gaunt  self,  would  nose  the 
air  with  eager  suspicion,  as  if  longing  for  the 
excitement  of  the  tragedies  in  which  he  was  to 
play  such  an  important  part. 

"If  you  can  stand  it,"  said  Wabi,  nodding 
at  Rod  over  his  caribou  steak,  "we  won't  lose 
a  minute  from  now  on.  Over  that  country  we 
ought  to  make  twenty-five  or  thirty  miles  to- 
morrow. We  may  strike  our  hunting-ground 
by  noon,  or  it  may  take  us  two  or  three  days ; 
but  in  either  event  we  haven't  any  time  to 
waste.  Hurrah  for  the  big  camp,  I  say — and 
our  fun  begins!" 

It  seemed  to  Rod  as  though  he  had  hardly 
fallen  asleep  that  night  when  somebody  began 
tumbling  him  about  in  his  bed  of  balsam. 
Opening  his  eyes  he  beheld  Wabi's  laughing 
face,  illuminated  in  the  glow  of  a  roaring  fire. 

"Time's  up!"  he  called  cheerily.  "Hustle 
out,  Rod.  Breakfast  is  sizzling  hot,  everything 
116 


THE  ANCIENT   SKELETONS 

is  packed,  and  here  you  are  still  dreaming  of 
—what?" 

"Minnetaki!"  shot  back  Rod  with  unblush- 
ing honesty. 

In  another  minute  he  was  outside,  straight- 
ening his  disheveled  garments  and  smoothing 
his  tousled  hair.  It  was  still  very  dark,  but 
Rod  assured  himself  by  his  watch  that  it  was 
nearly  four  o'clock.  Mukoki  had  already 
placed  their  breakfast  on  a  flat  rock  beside  the 
fire  and,  according  to  Wabigoon's  previous 
scheme,  no  time  was  lost  in  disposing  of  it. 

Dawn  was  just  breaking  when  the  little  cav- 
alcade of  adventurers  set  out  from  the  camp. 
More  keenly  than  ever  Rod  now  felt  the  loss 
of  his  rifle.  They  were  about  to  enter  upon  a 
hunter's  paradise — and  he  had  no  gun!  His 
disappointment  was  acute  and  he  could  not 
repress  a  confession  of  his  feelings  to  Wabi. 
The  Indian  youth  at  once  suggested  a  happy 
remedy.  They  would  take  turns  in  using  his 
gun,  Rod  to  have  it  one  day  and  he  the  next; 
and  Wabi's  heavy  revolver  would  also  change 
117 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

hands,  so  that  the  one  who  did  not  possess  the 
rifle  would  be  armed  with  the  smaller  weapon. 
This  solution  of  the  difficulty  lifted  a  dampen- 
ing  burden  from  Rod's  heart,  and  when  the  lit- 
tle party  began  its  descent  into  the  wilderness 
regions  under  the  mountain  the  city  lad  car- 
ried the  rifle,  for  Wabi  insisted  that  he  have 
the  first  "turn." 

Once  free  of  the  rock-strewn  ridge  the  two 
boys  joined  forces  in  pulling  the  toboggan 
while  Mukoki  struck  out  a  trail  ahead  of 
them.  As  it  became  lighter  Rod  found  his  eyes 
glued  with  keen  interest  to  Mukoki's  snow- 
shoes,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  real- 
ized what  it  really  meant  to  "make  a  trail." 
The  old  Indian  was  the  most  famous  trail- 
maker  as  well  as  the  keenest  trailer  of  his 
tribe,  and  in  the  comparatively  open  bottoms 
through  which  they  were  now  traveling  he  was 
in  his  element.  His  strides  were  enormous,  and 
with  each  stride  he  threw  up  showers  of  snow, 
leaving  a  broad  level  path  behind  him  in 
which  the  snow  was  packed  by  his  own  weight, 
118 


THE   ANCIENT   SKELETONS 

so  that  when  Wabi  and  Rod  came  to  follow 
him  they  were  not  impeded  by  sinking  into  a 
soft  surface. 

Half  a  mile  from  the  mountain  Mukoki 
stopped  and  waited  for  the  others  to  come  up 
to  him. 

"Moose!"  he  called,  pointing  at  a  curious 
track  in  the  snow. 

Rod  leaned  eagerly  over  the  track. 

"The  snow  is  still  crumbling  and  falling 
where  he  stepped,"  said  Wabi.  "Watch  that 
little  chunk,  Rod.  See — it's  slipping — down — 
down — there !  It  was  an  old  bull — a  big  fel- 
low— and  he  passed  here  less  than  an  hour 
ago." 

Signs  of  the  night  carnival  of  the  wild 
things  now  became  more  and  more  frequent  as 
the  hunters  advanced.  They  crossed  and  re- 
crossed  the  trail  of  a  fox;  and  farther  on  they 
discovered  where  this  little  pirate  of  dark- 
ness had  slaughtered  a  big  white  rabbit.  The 
snow  was  covered  with  blood  and  hair  and 
part  of  the  carcass  remained  uneaten.  Again 
119 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Wabi  forgot  his  determination  to  waste  no 
time  and  paused  to  investigate. 

"Now,  if  we  only  knew  what  kind  of  a  fox 
he  was!"  he  exclaimed  to  Rod.  "But  we  don't. 
All  we  know  is  that  he's  a  fox.  And  all  fox 
tracks  are  alike,  no  matter  what  kind  of  a  fox 
makes  them.  If  there  was  only  some  differ- 
ence our  fortunes  would  be  made!" 

"How?"  asked  Rod. 

Mukoki  chuckled  as  if  the  mere  thought  of 
such  a  possibility  filled  him  with  glee. 

"Well,  that  fellow  may  be  an  ordinary  red 
fox,"  explained  the  Indian  youth.  "If  so,  he 
is  only  worth  from  ten  to  twenty  dollars ;  or 
he  may  be  a  black  fox,  worth  fifty  or  sixty;  or 
what  we  call  a  'cross* — a  mixture  of  silver  and 
black — worth  from  seventy-five  to  a  hundred. 
Or—" 

"Heap  big  silver!"  interrupted  Mukoki 
with  another  chuckle. 

"Yes,  or  a  silver,"  finished  Wabi.  "A  poor 
silver  is  worth  two  hundred  dollars,  and  a 
good  one  from  five  hundred  to  a  thousand! 
120 


THE   ANCIENT   SKELETONS 

Now  do  you  see  why  we  would  like  to  have  a 
difference  in  the  tracks?  If  that  was  a  silver, 
a  black  or  a  'cross,'  we'd  follow  him;  but  in 
all  probability  he  is  red." 

Every  hour  added  to  Rod's  knowledge  of 
the  wilderness  and  its  people.  For  the  first 
time  in  his  life  he  saw  the  big  dog-like  tracks 
made  by  wolves,  the  dainty  hoof-prints  of  the 
red  deer  and  the  spreading  imprints  of  a  trav- 
eling lynx;  he  pictured  the  hugeness  of  the 
moose  that  made  a  track  as  big  as  his  head, 
discovered  how  to  tell  the  difference  between 
the  hoof-print  of  a  small  moose  and  a  big 
caribou,  and  in  almost  every  mile  learned 
something  new. 

'Half  a  dozen  times  during  the  morning  the 
hunters  stopped  to  rest.  By  noon  Wabi  fig- 
ured that  they  had  traveled  twenty  miles,  and, 
although  very  tired,  Rod  declared  that  he  was 
still  "game  for  another  ten."  After  dinner  the 
aspect  of  the  country  changed.  The  river 
which  they  had  been  following  became  nar- 
rower and  was  so  swift  in  places  that  it  rushed 
122 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

tumultuously  between  its  frozen  edges.  For- 
est-clad hills,  huge  boulders  and  masses  of 
rock  now  began  to  mingle  again  with  the  bot- 
toms, which  in  this  country  are  known  as 
plains.  Every  mile  added  to  the  roughness 
and  picturesque  grandeur  of  the  country.  A 
few  miles  to  the  east  rose  another  range  of 
wild  and  rugged  hills;  small  lakes  became 
more  and  more  numerous,  and  everywhere  the 
hunters  crossed  and  recrossed  frozen  creeks. 

And  each  step  they  took  now  added  to  the 
enthusiasm  of  Wabi  and  his  companions.  Evi- 
dences of  game  and  fur  animals  were  plenty. 
A  thousand  ideal  locations  for  a  winter  camp 
were  about  them,  and  their  progress  became 
slow  and  studied. 

A  gently  sloping  hill  of  considerable  height 
now  lay  in  their  path  and  Mukoki  led  the  as- 
(cent.  At  the  top  the  three  paused  in  joyful 
astonishment.  At  their  feet  lay  a  "dip,"  or 
hollow,  a  dozen  acres  in  extent,  and  in  the 
center  of  this  dip  was  a  tiny  lake  partly  sur- 
rounded by  a  mixed  forest  of  cedar,  balsam 
122 


THE   ANCIENT   SKELETONS 

and  birch  that  swept  back  over  the  hill,  and 
partly  inclosed  by  a  meadow-like  opening. 
One  might  have  traveled  through  the  country 
a  thousand  times  without  discovering  this  bit 
of  wilderness  paradise  hidden  in  a  hilltop. 
Without  speaking  Mukoki  threw  off  his  heavy 
pack.  Wabi  unbuckled  his  harness  and  re- 
lieved his  shoulders  of  their  burden.  Rod,  fol- 
lowing their  example,  dropped  his  small  pack 
beside  that  of  the  old  Indian,  and  Wolf, 
straining  at  his  babeesh  thong,  gazed  with 
eager  eyes  into  the  hollow  as  though  he,  too, 
knew  that  it  was  to  be  their  winter  home. 

Wabi  broke  the  silence. 

"How  is  that,  Muky?"  he  asked. 

Mukoki  chuckled  with  unbounded  satisfac- 
tion. 

"Ver'  fine.  No  get  bad  wind — never  see 
smoke — plenty  wood — plenty  water." 

Relieved  of  their  burdens,  and  leaving  Wolf 

tied  to  the  toboggan,  the  hunters  made  their 

way  down  to  the  lake.     Hardly  had   they 

reached  its  edge  when  Wabi  halted  with  a 

123 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

startled  exclamation  and  pointed  into  the  for- 
est on  the  opposite  side. 

"Look  at  that!" 

A  hundred  yards  away,  almost  concealed 
among  the  trees,  was  a  cabin.  Even  from 
where  they  stood  they  could  see  that  it  was 
deserted.  Snow  was  drifted  high  about  it.  No 
chimney  surmounted  its  roof.  Nowhere  was 
there  a  sign  of  life. 

Slowly  the  hunters  approached.  It  was  evi- 
dent that  the  cabin  was  very  old.  The  logs  of 
which  it  was  built  were  beginning  to  decay. 
A  mass  of  saplings  had  taken  root  upon  its 
roof,  and  everything  about  it  gave  evidence 
that  it  had  been  erected  many  years  before. 
The  door,  made  of  split  timber  and  opening 
toward  the  lake,  was  closed;  the  one  window, 
also  opening  upon  the  lake,  was  tightly  barred 
With  lengths  of  sapling. 

Mukoki  tried  the  door,  but  it  resisted  his 
efforts.  Evidently  it  was  strongly  barred 
from  within. 

Curiosity  now  gave  place  to  astonishment. 
124 


THE   ANCIENT   SKELETONS 

How  could  the  door  be  locked  within,  and 
the  window  barred  from  within,  without  there 
being  somebody  inside? 

For  a  few  moments  the  three  stood  speech- 
less, listening. 

"Looks  queer,  doesn't  it?"  spoke  Wabi 
softly. 

Mukoki  had  dropped  on  his  knees  beside 
the  door.  He  could  hear  no  sound.  Then  he 
kicked  off  his  snow-shoes,  gripped  his  belt-ax 
and  stepped  to  the  window. 

A  dozen  blows  and  one  of  the  bars  fell.  The 
old  Indian  sniffed  suspiciously,  his  ear  close 
to  the  opening.  Damp,  stifling  air  greeted  his 
nostrils,  but  still  there  was  no  sound.  One  after 
another  he  knocked  off  the  remaining  bars 
and  thrust  his  head  and  shoulders  inside. 
Gradually  his  eyes  became  accustomed  to  the 
darkness  and  he  pulled  himself  in. 

Half-way — and  he  stopped. 

"Go  on,  Muky,"  urged  Wabi,  who  was 
pressing  close  behind. 

There  came  no  answer  from  the  old  Indian. 
125 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

For  a  full  minute  he  remained  poised  there, 
as  motionless  as  a  stone,  as  silent  as  death. 

Then,  very  slowly — inch  by  inch,  as  though 
afraid  of  awakening  a  sleeping  person,  he  low- 
ered himself  to  the  ground.  When  he  turned 
toward  the  young  hunters  it  was  with  an  ex- 
pression that  Rod  had  never  seen  upon  Mu- 
koki's  face  before. 

"What  is  it,  Mukoki?" 

The  old  Indian  gasped,  as  if  for  fresh  air. 

"Cabin — she  filled  with  twent'  t'ousand 
dead  men !"  he  replied. 


126 


CHAPTER  VII 

RODERICK  DISCOVERS  THE  BUCKSKIN  BAG 

FOR  one  long  breath  Rod  and  Wabi 
stared  at  their  companion,  only  half 
believing,  yet  startled  by  the  strange 
look  in  the  old  warrior's  face. 

"Twent'  t'ousand  dead  men!"  he  repeated. 
As  he  raised  his  hand,  partly  to  give  emphasis 
and  partly  to  brush  the  cobwebs  from  his  face, 
the  boys  saw  it  trembling  in  a  way  that  even 
Wabi  had  never  witnessed  before. 
"Ugh!" 

In  another  instant  Wabi  was  at  the  window, 
head  and  shoulders  in,  as  Mukoki  had  been 
before  him.  After  a  little  he  pulled  himself 
back  and  as  he  glanced  at  Rod  he  laughed  in 
an  odd  thrilling  way,  as  though  he  had  been 
startled,  but  not  so  much  so  as  Mukoki,  who 
had  prepared  him  for  the  sight  which  had 
127 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Struck  his  own  vision  with  the  unexpectedness 
of  a  shot  in  the  back. 

uTakealook,  Rod!n 

With  his  breath  coming  in  little  uneasy 
jerks  Rod  approached  the  black  aperture.  A 
queer  sensation  seized  upon  him — a  palpita- 
tion, not  of  fear,  but  of  something;  a  very  un- 
pleasant feeling  that  seemed  to  choke  his 
breath,  and  made  him  wish  that  he  had  not 
been  asked  to  peer  into  that  mysterious  dark- 
ness. Slowly  he  thrust  his  head  through  the 
hole.  It  was  as  black  as  night  inside.  But 
gradually  the  darkness  seemed  to  be  dispelled. 
He  saw,  in  a  little  while,  the  opposite  wall  of 
the  cabin.  A  table  outlined  itself  in  deep 
shadows,  and  near  the  table  there  was  a  pile 
of  something  that  he  could  not  name;  and 
tumbled  over  that  was  a  chair,  with  an  object 
that  might  have  been  an  old  rag  half  cover- 
ing it. 

His  eyes  traveled  nearer.  Outside  Wabi 
and  Mukoki  heard  a  startled,  partly  sup- 
pressed cry.  The  boy's  hands  gripped  the 
128 


THE   BUCKSKIN   BAG 

sides  of  the  window.  Fascinated,  he  stared 
down  upon  an  object  almost  within  arm's 
reach  of  him. 

There,  leaning  against  the  cabin  wall,  was 
what  half  a  century  or  more  ago  had  been  a 
living  man!  Now  it  was  a  mere  skeleton,  a 
grotesque,  terrible-looking  object,  its  empty 
eye-sockets  gleaming  dully  with  the  light  from 
the  window,  its  grinning  mouth,  distorted  into 
ghostly  life  by  the  pallid  mixture  of  light  and 
gloom,  turned  full  up  at  him! 

Rod  fell  back,  trembling  and  white. 

"I  only  saw  one,"  he  gasped,  remembering 
Mukoki's  excited  estimate. 

Wabi,  who  had  regained  his  composure, 
laughed  as  he  struck  him  two  or  three  playful 
blows  on  the  back.  Mukoki  only  grunted. 

"You  didn't  look  long  enough,  Rod!"  he 
cried  banteringly.  "He  got  on  your  nerves 
too  quick.  I  don't  blame  you,  though.  By 
George,  I'll  bet  the  shivers  went  up  Muky's 
back  when  he  first  saw  'em!  I'm  going  in  to 
open  the  door." 

129 


rHE   WOLF   H  WINTERS 

Without  trepidation  the  young  Indian 
crawled  through  the  window.  Rod,  whose 
nervousness  was  quickly  dispelled,  made  haste 
to  follow  him,  while  Mukoki  again  threw  his 
weight  against  the  door.  A  few  blows  of 
Wabi's  belt-ax  and  the  door  shot  inward  so 
suddenly  that  the  old  Indian  went  sprawling 
after  it  upon  all  fours. 

A  flood  of  light  filled  the  interior  of  the 
cabin.  Instinctively  Rod's  eyes  sought  the 
skeleton  against  the  wall.  It  was  leaning  as 
if,  many  years  before,  a  man  had  died  there  in 
a  posture  of  sleep.  Quite  near  this  ghastly 
tenant  of  the  cabin,  stretched  at  full  length 
upon  the  log  floor,  was  a  second  skeleton,  and 
near  the  overturned  chair  was  a  small  clut- 
tered heap  of  bones  which  were  evidently 
those  of  some  animal.  Rod  and  Wabi  drew 
nearer  the  skeleton  against  the  wall  and  were 
bent  upon  making  a  closer  examination  when 
an  exclamation  from  Mukoki  attracted  their 
attention  to  the  old  pathfinder.  He  was  upon 
his  knees  beside  the  second  skeleton,  and  as 
130 


THE   BUCKSKIN   BAG 

the  boys  approached  he  lifted  eyes  to  them 
that  were  filled  with  unbounded  amazement, 
at  the  same  time  pointing  a  long  forefinger  to 
«ome  object  among  the  bones. 

"Knife— fight— heem  killed!" 

Plunged  to  the  hilt  in  what  had  once  been 
the  breast  of  a  living  being,  the  boys  saw  a 
long,  heavy-bladed  knife,  its  handle  rotting 
with  age,  its  edges  eaten  by  rust — but  still 
erect,  held  there  by  the  murderous  road  its 
owner  had  cleft  for  it  through  the  flesh  and 
bone  of  his  victim. 

Rod,  who  had  fallen  upon  hi*  knees,  gazed 
up  blankly;  his  jaw  dropped,  and  he  asked 
the  first  question  that  popped  into  his  head. 

"Who— did  it?" 

Mukoki  chuckled,  almost  gleefully,  and 
nodded  toward  the  gruesome  thing  reclining 
igainst  the  wall. 

:<Heem!" 

Moved  by  a  common  instinct  the  three  drew 
near  the  other  skeleton.  One  of  its  long  arms 
was  resting  across  what  had  once  been  a  pail- 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

but  which,  long  since,  had  sunk  into  total 
collapse  between  its  hoops.  The  finger-bones 
of  this  arm  were  still  tightly  shut,  clutching 
between  them  a  roll  of  something  that  looked 
like  birch-bark.  The  remaining  arm  had  fal- 
len close  to  the  skeleton's  side,  and  it  was  on 
this  side  that  Mukoki's  critical  eyes  searched 
most  carefully,  his  curiosity  being  almost  im 
mediately  satisfied  by  the  discovery  of  a  short, 
slant-wise  cut  in  one  of  the  ribs. 

"This  un  die  here !"  he  explained.  "Git  urn 
stuck  knife  in  ribs.  Bad  way  die!  Much 
hurt — no  die  quick,  sometime.  Ver'  bad  way 
git  stuck!" 

"Ugh!"  shuddered  Rod.  "This  cabin 
hasn't  had  any  fresh  air  in  it  for  a  century, 
I'll  bet.  Let's  get  out!" 

Mukoki,  in  passing,  picked  up  a  skull  from 
the  heap  of  bones  near  the  chair. 

"Dog!"  he  grunted.  "Door  lock' — window 
shut — men  fight — both  kill.  Dog  starve!" 

[As  the  three  retraced  their  steps  to  the  spot 
where  Wolf  was  guarding  the  toboggan,  Rod's 
132 


THE   BUCKSKIN   BAG 


imaginative  mind  quickly  painted  a  picture 
of  the  terrible  tragedy  that  had  occurred  long 
ago  in  the  old  cabin.  To  Mukoki  and  Wabi- 
goon  the  discovery  of  the  skeletons  was  sim- 
ply an  incident  in  a  long  life  of  wilderness 
adventure — something  of  passing  interest,  but 
of  small  importance.  To  Rod  it  was  the  most 
tragic  event  that  had  ever  come  into  his  city- 
bound  existence,  with  the  exception  of  the 
thrilling  conflict  at  Wabinosh  House.  He  re- 
constructed that  deadly  hour  in  the  cabin; 
saw  the  men  in  fierce  altercation,  saw  them 
struggling,  and  almost  heard  the  fatal  blows 
as  they  were  struck — the  blows  that  slew  one 
with  the  suddenness  of  a  lightning  bolt  and 
sent  the  other,  triumphant  but  dying,  to 
breathe  his  last  moments  with  his  back 
propped  against  the  wall.  And  the  dog! 
What  part  had  he  taken?  And  after  that- 
long  days  of  maddening  loneliness,  days  of 
starvation  and  of  thirst,  until  he,  too,  doubled 
himself  up  on  the  floor  and  died.  It  was  a 
terrible,  a  thrilling  picture  that  burned  in 
133 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Roderick's  brain.  But  why  had  they  quar- 
reled? What  cause  had  there  been  for  that 
sanguinary  night  duel?  Instinctively  Rod  ac- 
cepted it  as  having  occurred  at  night,  for  the 
door  had  been  locked,  the  window  barred. 
Just  then  he  would  have  given  a  good  deal  to 
have  had  the  mystery  solved. 

At  the  top  of  the  hill  Rod  awoke  to  present 
realities.  Wabi,  who  had  harnessed  himself 
to  the  toboggan,  was  in  high  spirits. 

"That  cabin  is  a  dandy!"  he  exclaimed  as 
Rod  joined  him.  "It  would  have  taken  us  at 
least  two  weeks  to  build  as  good  a  one.  Isn't 
it  luck?" 

"We're  going  to  live  in  it?"  inquired  his 
companion. 

"Live  in  it!  I  should  say  we  were.  It  is 
three  times  as  big  as  the  shack  we  had  planned 
to  build.  I  can't  understand  why  two  men 
like  those  fellows  should  have  put  up  such  a 
large  cabin.  What  do  you  think,  Mukoki?" 

Mukoki  shook  his  head.  Evidently  the  mys- 
tery of  the  whole  thing,  beyond  the  fact  that 


THE   BUCKSKIN   BAG 

the  tenants  of  the  cabin  had  killed  themselves 
in  battle,  was  beyond  his  comprehension. 

The  winter  outfit  was  soon  in  a  heap  be- 
side the  cabin  door. 

"Now  for  cleaning  up,"  announced  Wabi 
cheerfully.  "Muky,  you  lend  me  a  hand  with 
the  bones,  will  you?  Rod  can  nose  around 
and  fetch  out  anything  he  likes." 

This  assignment  just  suited  Rod's  curiosity. 
He  was  now  worked  up  to  a  feverish  pitch  of 
expectancy.  Might  he  not  discover  some  clue 
that  would  lead  to  a  solution  of  the  mystery? 

One  question  alone  seemed  to  ring  inces- 
santly in  his  head.  Why  had  they  fought? 
Why  had  they  fought? 

He  even  found  himself  repeating  this  un- 
der his  breath  as  he  began  rummaging  about. 
He  kicked  over  the  old  chair,  which  was  made 
of  saplings  nailed  together,  scrutinized  a  heap 
of  rubbish  that  crumbled  to  dust  under  his 
touch,  and  gave  a  little  cry  of  exultation  when 
he  found  two  guns  leaning  in  a  corner  of  the 
cabin.  Their  stocks  were  decaying;  their 
135 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

locks  were  encased  with  rust,  their  barrels, 
too,  were  thick  with  the  accumulated  rust  of 
years.  Carefully,  almost  tenderly,  he  took  one 
of  these  relics  of  a  past  age  in  his  hands.  It 
was  of  ancient  pattern,  almost  as  long  as  he 
was  tall. 

"Hudson  Bay  gun — the  kind  they  had  be- 
fore my  father  was  born!"  said  Wabi. 

With  bated  breath  and  eagerly  beating 
heart  Rod  pursued  his  search.  On  one  of  the 
walls  he  found  the  remains  of  what  had  once 
been  garments — part  of  a  hat,  that  fell  in  a 
thousand  pieces  when  he  touched  it;  the  dust- 
rags  of  a  coat  and  other  things  that  he  could 
not  name.  On  the  table  there  were  rusty  pans, 
a  tin  pail,  an  iron  kettle,  and  the  remains  of 
old  knives,  forks  and  spoons.  On  one  end  of 
this  table  there  was  an  unusual-looking  object, 
and  he  touched  it.  Unlike  the  other  rags  it 
did  not  crumble,  and  when  he  lifted  it  he 
found  that  it  was  a  small  bag,  made  of  buck- 
skin, tied  at  the  end — and  heavy!  With  trem- 
bling fingers  he  tore  away  the  rotted  string  and 
136 


THE   BUCKSKIN   BAG 


out  upon  the  table  there  rattled  a  handful  of 
greenish-black,  pebbly  looking  objects. 

Rod  gave  a  sharp  quick  cry  for  the  others. 

Wabi  and  Mukoki  had  just  come  through 
the  door  after  bearing  out  one  of  their  grue- 
some loads,  and  the  young  Indian  hurried  to 
his  side.  He  weighed  one  of  the  pieces  in  the 
palm  of  his  hand. 

"It's  lead,  or—" 

"Gold!"  breathed  Rod. 

He  could  hear  his  own  heart  thumping  as 
Wabi  jumped  back  to  the  light  of  the  door, 
his  sheath-knife  in  his  hand.  For  an  instant  the 
keen  blade  sank  into  the  age-discolored  ob- 
ject, and  before  Rod  could  see  into  the  crease 
that  it  made  Wabi's  voice  rose  in  an  excited 
cry. 

"It's  a  gold  nugget!" 

"And  that's  why  they  fought!"  exclaimed 
Rod  exultantly. 

He  had  hoped — and  he  had  discovered  the 
reason.  For  a  few  moments  this  was  of  more 
importance  to  him  than  the  fact  that  he  had 
137 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

found  gold.  Wabi  and  Mukoki  were  now  in 
a  panic  of  excitement.  The  buckskin  bag  was 
turned  inside  out;  the  table  was  cleared  of 
every  other  object;  every  nook  and  cranny 
was  searched  with  new  enthusiasm.  The 
searchers  hardly  spoke.  Each  was  intent  upon 
finding — finding — finding.  Thus  does  gold 
— virgin  gold — stir  up  the  sparks  of  that 
latent,  feverish  fire  which  is  in  every  map's 
.our.  Again  Rod  joined  in  the  search.  Every 
rag,  every  pile  of  dust,  every  bit  of  unrecog- 
nizable debris  was  torn,  sifted  and  scattered. 
At  the  end  of  an  hour  the  three  paused,  hope- 
lessly baffled,  even  keenly  disappointed  for  the 
time. 

"I  guess  that's  all  there  is,"  said  Wabi. 

It  was  the  longest  sentence  that  he  hao! 
spoken  for  half  an  hour. 

"There  is  only  one  thing  to  do,  boys.  We'll 
clean  out  everything  there  is  in  the  cabin,  and 
to-morrow  we'll  tear  up  the  floor.  You  can't 
tell  what  there  might  be  under  it,  and  we've 
got  to  have  a  new  floor  anyway.  It  is  getting 
138 


THE   BUCKSKIN   BAG 

dusk,  and  if  we  have  this  place  fit  to  sleep  in 
to-night  we  have  got  to  hustle." 

No  time  was  lost  in  getting  the  debris  of  the 
cabin  outside,  and  by  the  time  darkness  had, 
fallen  a  mass  of  balsam  boughs  had  been 
spread  upon  the  log  floor  just  inside  the  door> 
blankets  were  out,  packs  and  supplies  stowed 
away  in  one  corner,  and  everything  "comfort- 
able and  shipshape,"  as  Rod  expressed  it.  A 
huge  fire  was  built  a  few  feet  away  from  the 
open  door  and  the  light  and  heat  from  this 
made  the  interior  of  the  cabin  quite  light  and 
warm,  and,  with  the  assistance  of  a  couple  of 
candles,  more  home-like  than  any  camp  they 
had  slept  in  thus  far.  Mukoki's  supper  was  a 
veritable  feast — broiled  caribou,  cold  beans 
that  the  old  Indian  had  cooked  at  their  last 
camp,  meal  cakes  and  hot  coffee.  The  three 
happy  hunters  ate  of  it  as  though  they  had 
not  tasted  food  for  a  week. 

The  day,  though  a  hard  one,  had  been 
fraught  with  too  much  excitement  for  them 
to  retire  to  their  blankets  immediately  after 
139 


THE  WOLF   HUNTERS 

this  meal,  as  they  had  usually  done  in  other 
camps.  They  realized,  too,  that  they  had 
reached  the  end  of  their  journey  and  that  their 
hardest  work  was  over.  There  was  no  long 
jaunt  ahead  of  them  to-morrow.  Their  new 
life — the  happiest  life  in  the  world  to  them — 
had  already  begun.  Their  camp  was  estab- 
lished, they  were  ready  for  their  winter's 
sport,  and  from  this  moment  on  they  felt  that 
their  evenings  were  their  own  to  do  with  as 
they  pleased. 

So  for  many  hours  that  night  Rod,  Mukoki 
and  Wabigoon  sat  up  and  talked  and  kept  the 
fire  roaring  before  the  door.  Twenty  times 
they  went  over  the  tragedy  of  the  old  cabin ; 
twenty  times  they  weighed  the  half-pound  of 
precious  little  lumps  in  the  palms  of  their 
hands,  and  bit  by  bit  they  built  up  that  life 
'romance  of  the  days  of  long  ago,  when  all  this 
wilderness  was  still  an  unopened  book  to  the 
white  man.  And  that  story  seemed  very  clear 
to  them  now.  These  men  had  been  prospect- 
ors. They  had  discovered  gold.  Afterward 
140 


THE   BUCKSKIN   BAG 

they  had  quarreled,  probably  over  some  di- 
vision of  it — perhaps  over  the  ownership  of 
the  very  nuggets  they  had  found ;  and  then,  in 
the  heat  of  their  anger,  had  followed  the  knife 
battle. 

But  where  had  they  discovered  the  gold? 
That  was  the  question  of  supreme  interest  to 
the  hunters,  and  they  debated  it  until  mid- 
night. There  were  no  mining  tools  in  the 
camp;  no  pick,  shovel  or  pan.  Then  it  oc- 
curred to  them  that  the  builders  of  the  cabin 
had  been  hunters,  had  discovered  gold  by  ac- 
cident and  had  collected  that  in  the  buckskin 
bag  without  the  use  of  a  pan. 

There  was  little  sleep  in  the  camp  that  night, 
and  with  the  first  light  of  day  the  three  were 
at  work  again.  Immediately  after  breakfast 
the  task  of  tearing  up  the  old  and  decayed  floor 
began.  One  by  one  the  split  saplings  were 
pried  up  and  carried  out  for  firewood,  until 
the  earth  floor  lay  bare.  Every  foot  of  it  was 
now  eagerly  turned  over  with  a  shovel  which 
had  been  brought  in  the  equipment;  the  base- 
141 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

logs  were  undermined,  and  filled  in  again; 
the  moss  that  had  been  packed  in  the  chinks 
between  the  cabin  timbers  was  dug  out,  and  by 
noon  there  was  not  a  square  inch  of  the  in- 
terior of  the  camp  that  had  not  been  searched. 

There  was  no  more  gold. 

In  a  way  this  fact  brought  relief  with  it. 
Both  Wabi  and  Rod  gradually  recovered  from 
their  nervous  excitement.  The  thought  of  gold 
gradually  faded  from  their  minds;  the  joy 
and  exhilaration  of  the  "hunt  life"  filled  them 
more  and  more.  Mukoki  set  to  work  cutting 
fresh  cedars  for  the  floor;  the  two  boys 
scoured  every  log  with  water  from  the  lake 
and  afterward  gathered  several  bushels  of 
moss  for  refilling  the  chinks.  That  evening 
supper  was  cooked  on  the  sheet-iron  "section 
stove"  which  they  had  brought  on  the  tobog- 
gan, and  which  was  set  up  where  the  ancient 
stove  of  flat  stones  had  tumbled  into  ruin.  By 
candle-light  the  work  of  "rechinking"  with 
moss  progressed  rapidly.  Wabi  was  constant- 
ly bursting  into  snatches  of  wild  Indian  song, 
142 


THE   BUCKSKIN   BAG 

Rod  whistled  until  his  throat  was  sore  and 
Mukoki  chuckled  and  grunted  and  talked  with 
constantly  increasing  volubility.  A  score  of 
times  they  congratulated  one  another  upon 
their  good  luck.  Eight  wolf-scalps,  a  fine 
lynx  and  nearly  two  hundred  dollars  in  gold 
— all  within  their  first  week!  It  was  enough 
to  fill  them  with  enthusiasm  and  they  made 
little  effort  to  repress  their  joy. 

During  this  evening  Mukoki  boiled  up  a 
large  pot  of  caribou  fat  and  bones,  and  when 
Rod  asked  what  kind  of  soup  he  was  making 
he  responded  by  picking  up  a  handful  of  steel 
traps  and  dropping  them  into  the  mixture. 

"Make  traps  smell  good  for  fox — wolf — 
fisher,  an'  marten,  too;  heem  come — all  come 
— like  smell,"  he  explained. 

"If  you  don't  dip  the  traps,"  added  Wabi, 
"nine  fur  animals  out  of  ten,  and  wolves  most 
of  all,  will  fight  shy  of  the  bait.  They  can 
smell  the  human  odor  you  leave  on  the  steel 
when  you  handle  it.  But  the  grease  'draws7 
them." 

143 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

When  the  hunters  wrapped  themselves  in 
their  blankets  that  night  their  wilderness  home 
was  complete.  All  that  remained  to  be  done 
was  the  building  of  three  bunks  against  the 
ends  of  the  cabin,  and  this  work  it  was  agreed 
could  be  accomplished  at  odd  hours  by  any 
one  who  happened  to  be  in  camp.  In  the 
morning,  laden  with  traps,  they  would  strike 
out  their  first  hunting-trails,  keeping  their 
eyes  especially  open  for  signs  of  wolves;  for 
Mukoki  was  the  greatest  wolf  hunter  in  all 
the  Hudson  Bay  region. 


144 


CHAPTER   VIII 

How  WOLF  BECAME  THE  COMPANION  OF 

MEN 

TWICE  that  night  Rod  was  awakened 
by  Mukoki  opening  the  cabin  door. 
The  second  time  he  raised  himself 
upon  his  elbows  and  quietly  watched  the  old 
warrior.  It  was  a  brilliantly  clear  night  and 
a  flood  of  moonlight  was  pouring  into  the 
camp.  He  could  hear  Mukoki  chuckling  and 
grunting,  as  though  communicating  with  him- 
self, and  at  last,  his  curiosity  getting  the  better 
of  him,  he  wrapped  his  blanket  about  him  and 
joined  the  Indian  at  the  door. 

Mukoki  was  peering  up  into  space.  Rod 
followed  his  gaze.  The  moon  was  directly 
above  the  cabin.  The  sky  was  clear  of  clouds 
and  so  bright  was  the  light  that  objects  on  the 
farther  side  of  the  lake  were  plainly  visible. 
145 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Besides,  it  was  bitter  cold — so  cold  that  his 
face  began  to  tingle  as  he  stood  there.  These 
things  he  noticed,  but  he  could  see  nothing  tc 
hold  Mukoki's  vision  in  the  sky  above  unless 
it  was  the  glorious  beauty  of  the  night. 

"What  is  it,  Mukoki?"  he  asked. 

The  old  Indian  looked  silently  at  him  for  a 
moment,  some  mysterious,  all-absorbing  joy 
revealed  in  every  lineament  of  his  face. 

"Wolf  night!"  he  whispered. 

He  looked  back  to  where  Wabi  was  sleep- 
ing. 

"Wolf  night!"  he  repeated,  and  slipped  like 
a  shadow  to  the  side  of  the  unconscious  young 
hunter.  Rod  regarded  his  actions  with  grow- 
ing wonder.  He  saw  him  bend  over  Wabi, 
shake  him  by  the  shoulders,  and  heard  him 
repeat  again,  "Wolf  night!  Wolf  night!" 

Wabi  awoke  and  sat  up  in  his  blankets,  and 
Mukoki  came  back  to  the  door.  He  had 
dressed  himself  before  this,  and  now,  with  his 
rifle,  slipped  out  into  the  night.  The  young 
Indian  had  joined  Rod  at  the  open  door  and 
146 


WOLF 

together  they  watched  Mukoki's  gaunt  figure 
as  it  sped  swiftly  across  the  lake,  up  the  hill 
and  over  mto  the  wilderness  desolation  be- 
yond. 

When  Rod  looked  at  Wabi  he  saw  that  the 
Indian  boy's  eyes  were  wide  and  staring,  with 
an  expression  in  them  that  was  something  be- 
tween fright  and  horror.  Without  speaking 
he  went  to  the  table  and  lighted  the  candles 
and  then  dressed.  When  he  was  done  his  face 
still  bore  traces  of  suppressed  excitement. 

He  ran  back  to  the  door  and  whistled  loud- 
ly. From  his  shelter  beside  the  cabin  the  cap- 
tive wolf  responded  with  a  snarling  whine. 
Again  he  whistled,  a  dozen  times,  twenty,  but 
there  came  no  reply.  More  swiftly  than  Mu- 
koki  the  Indian  youth  sped  across  the  lake  and 
to  the  summit  of  the  hill.  Mukoki  had  com- 
pletely disappeared  in  the  white,  brilliant 
vastness  of  the  wilderness  that  stretched  away 
at  his  feet. 

When  Wabi  returned  to  the  cabin  Rod  had 
a  fire  roaring  in  the  stove.  He  seated  himself 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

beside  it,  holding  out  a  pair  of  hands  blue  with 
cold. 

"Ugh!    It's  an  awful  night!"  he  shivered. 

He  laughed  across  at  Rod,  a  little  uneasily, 
but  with  the  old  light  back  in  his  eyes.  Sud- 
denly he  asked: 

"Did  Minnetaki  ever  tell  you — anything — 
queer — about  Mukoki,  Rod?" 

"Nothing  more  than  you  have  told  me  your* 
self." 

"Well,  once  in  a  great  while  Mukoki  has 
^-not  exactly  a  fit,  but  a  little  mad  spell!  I 
have  never  determined  to  my  own  satisfaction 
whether  he  is  really  out  of  his  head  or  not. 
Sometimes  I  think  he  is  and  sometimes  I  think 
he  is  not.  But  the  Indians  at  the  Post  believe 
that  at  certain  times  he  goes  crazy  over 
wolves." 

"Wolves!"  exclaimed  Rod. 

"Yes,  wolves.    And  he  has  good  reason.    A 

good  many  years  ago,  just  about  when  you  and 

I  were  born,  Mukoki  had  a  wife  and  child. 

My  mother  and  others  at  the  Post  say  that  he 

148 


WOLF 

was  especially  gone  over  the  kid.  He  wouldn't 
hunt  like  other  Indians,  but  would  spend 
whole  days  at  his  shack  playing  with  it  and 
teaching  it  to  do  things ;  and  when  he  did  go 
hunting  he  would  often  tote  it  on  his  back, 
even  when  it  wasn't  much  more  than  a  squal- 
ling papoose.  He  was  the  happiest  Indian  at 
the  Post,  and  one  of  the  poorest.  One  day  Mu- 
koki  came  to  the  Post  with  a  little  bundle  of 
fur,  and  most  of  the  things  he  got  in  exchange 
for  it,  mother  says,  were  for  the  kid.  He 
reached  the  store  at  night  and  expected  to 
leave  for  home  the  next  noon,  which  would 
bring  him  to  his  camp  before  dark.  But  some- 
thing delayed  him  and  he  didn't  get  started 
until  the  morning  after.  Meanwhile,  late  in 
the  afternoon  of  the  day  when  he  was  to  have 
been  home,  his  wife  bundled  up  the  kid  and 
they  set  out  to  meet  him.  Well — " 

A  weird  howl  from  the  captive  wolf  in- 
terrupted Wabi  for  a  moment. 

"Well,  they  went  on  and  on,  and  of  course 
'did  not  meet  him.  And  then,  the  people  at 
145 


iHE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

the  Post  say,  the  mother  must  have  slipped 
and  hurt  herself.  Anyway,  when  Mukoki 
came  over  the  trail  the  next  day  he  found  them 
half  eaten  by  wolves.  From  that  day  on  Mu- 
koki was  a  different  Indian.  He  became  the 
greatest  wolf  hunter  in  all  these  regions.  Soon 
after  the  tragedy  he  came  to  the  Post  to  live 
and  since  then  he  has  not  left  Minnetaki  and 
me.  Once  in  a  great  while  when  the  night  is 
just  right,  when  the  moon  is  shining  and  it  is 
bitter  cold,  Mukoki  seems  to  go  a  little  mad. 
He  calls  this  a  Svolf  night.'  No  one  can  stop 
him  from  going  out;  no  one  can  get  him  to 
talk;  he  will  allow  no  one  to  accompany  him 
when  in  such  a  mood.  He  will  walk  miles  and 
miles  to-night.  But  he  will  come  back.  And 
when  he  returns  he  will  be  as  sane  as  you  and 
I,  and  if  you  ask  him  where  he  has  been  he 
will  say  that  he  went  out  to  see  if  he  could  get 
a  shot  at  something." 

Rod  had  listened  in  rapt  attention.    To  him, 
as  Wabi  proceeded  with  his  story  of  the  trag- 
edy in  Mukoki's  life,  the  old  Indian  was  trans- 
150 


WOLF 

formed  into  another  being.  No  longer  was 
he  a  mere  savage  reclaimed  a  little  from  the 
wilderness.  There  had  sprung  up  in  Rod's 
breast  a  great,  human,  throbbing  sympathy 
for  him,  and  in  the  dim  candle-glow  his  eyes 
glistened  with  a  dampness  which  he  made  no 
attempt  to  conceal. 

"What  does  Mukoki  mean  by  'wolf  night'?" 
he  asked. 

"Muky  is  a  wizard  when  it  comes  to  hunt- 
ing wolves,"  Wabi  went  on.  "He  has  studied 
them  and  thought  of  them  every  day  of  his 
life  for  nearly  twenty  years.  He  knows  more 
about  wolves  than  all  the  rest  of  the  hunters 
in  this  country  together.  He  can  catch  them 
in  every  trap  he  sets,  which  no  other  trapper 
in  the  world  can  do ;  he  can  tell  you  a  hundred 
different  things  about  a  certain  wolf  simply 
by  its  track,  and  because  of  his  wonderful 
knowledge  he  can  tell,  by  some  instinct  that 
is  almost  supernatural,  when  a  Svolf  night7 
comes.  Something  in  the  air  to-night,  some- 
thing in  the  sky — in  the  moon — in  the  very 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

way  the  wilderness  looks,  tells  him  that  stray 
wolves  in  the  plains  and  hills  are  'packing'  or 
banding  together  to-night,  and  that  in  the 
morning  the  sun  will  be  shining,  and  they  will 
be  on  the  sunny  sides  of  the  mountains.  See  if 
I  am  not  right  To-morrow  night,  if  Mukoki 
comes  back  by  then,  we  shall  have  some  ex- 
citing sport  with  the  wolves,  and  then  you  will 
see  how  Wolf  out  there  does  his  work!" 

There  followed  several  minutes  of  silence. 
The  fire  roared  up  the  chimney,  the  stove 
glowed  red  hot  and  the  boys  sat  and  looked 
and  listened.  Rod  took  out  his  watch.  It 
lacked  only  ten  minutes  of  midnight.  Yet 
neither  seemed  possessed  with  a  desire  to  re- 
turn to  their  interrupted  sleep. 

"Wolf  is  a  curious  beast,"  mused  Wabi  soft- 
ly. "You  might  think  he  was  a  sneaking, 
traitorous  cur  of  a  wolf  to  turn  against  his 
own  breed  and  lure  them  to  death.  But  he 
isn't  Wolf,  as  well  as  Mukoki,  has  good 
cause  for  what  he  does.  You  might  call  it 
animal  vengeance.  Did  you  ever  notice  that 


WOLF 

a  half  of  one  of  his  ears  is  gone?  And  if  you 
thrust  back  his  head  you  will  find  a  terrible 
scar  in  his  throat,  and  from  his  left  side  just 
back  of  the  fore  leg  a  chunk  of  flesh  half  a« 
big  as  my  hand  has  been  torn  away.  We  caught 
Wolf  in  a  lynx  trap,  Mukoki  and  I.  He  wasn't 
much  more  than  a  whelp  then — about  six 
months  old.  Mukoki  said.  And  while  he  was 
in  the  trap,  helpless  and  unable  to  defend  him- 
self, three  or  four  of  his  lovely  tribe  jumped 
upon  him  and  tried  to  kill  him  for  breakfast. 
We  hove  in  sight  just  in  time  to  drive  the  can- 
nibals off.  We  kept  Wolf,  sewed  up  his  side 
and  throat,  tamed  him — and  to-morrow  night 
you  will  see  how  Mukoki  has  taught  him  to 
get  even  with  his  people." 

It  was  two  hours  later  when  Rod  and  Wa- 
bigoon  extinguished  the  candles  and  returned 
to  their  blankets.  And  for  another  hour  after 
that  the  former  found  it  impossible  to  sleep 
He  wondered  where  Mukoki  was — wondered 
what  he  was  doing,  and  how  in  his  strange 
madness  he  found  his  way  in  the  trackless  wil- 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

derness.  When  he  finally  fell  asleep  it  was 
to  dream  of  the  Indian  mother  and  her  child; 
only  after  a  little  there  was  no  child,  and  the 
woman  changed  into  Minnetaki,  and  the  rav- 
enous wolves  into  men.  From  this  unpleasant 
picture  he  was  aroused  by  a  series  of  prods 
in  his  side,  and  opening  his  eyes  he  beheld 
Wabi  in  his  blankets  a  yard  away,  pointing 
over  and  beyond  him  and  nodding  his  head. 
Rod  looked,  and  caught  his  breath. 

There  was  Mukoki — peeling  potatoes! 

"Hello,  Muky!"  he  shouted. 

The  old  Indian  looked  up  with  a  grin.  His 
face  bore  no  signs  of  his  mad  night  on  the 
trail.  He  nodded  cheerfully  and  proceeded 
with  the  preparation  of  breakfast  as  though 
he  had  just  risen  from  his  blankets  after  a 
long  night's  rest. 

"Better  get  up,"  he  advised.  "Big  day's 
hunt.  Much  fine  sunshine  to-day.  Find 
wolves  on  mountain — plenty  wolves !" 

The  boys  tumbled  from  their  blankets  and 
began  dressing. 

154 


WOLF 

"What  time  did  you  get  in?"  asked  Wabi. 

"Now,"  replied  Mukoki,  pointing  to  the 
hot  stove  and  the  peeled  potatoes.  "Just  make 
fire  good." 

Wabi  gave  Rod  a  suggestive  look  as  the  old 
Indian  bent  over  the  stove. 

"What  were  you  doing  last  night?"  he  ques- 
tioned. 

"Big  moon — might  get  shot,"  grunted  Mu- 
koki. "See  lynx  on  hill.  See  wolf-tracks  on 
red  deer  trail.  No  shot." 

This  was  as  much  of  the  history  of  Mukoki's 
night  on  the  trail  as  the  boys  could  secure,  but 
during  their  breakfast  Wabi  shot  another 
glance  at  Rod,  and  as  Mukoki  left  the  table 
for  a  moment  to  close  the  damper  in  the  stove 
he  found  an  opportunity  to  whisper: 

"See  if  I'm  not  right.  He  will  choose  the 
mountain  trail."  When  their  companion  re- 
turned, he  said:  "We  had  better  split  up  this 
morning,  hadn't  we,  Muky?  It  looks  to  me; 
as  though  there  are  two  mighty  good  lines  for 
traps — one  over  the  hill,  where  that  creek 
i55 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

leads  off  through  the  range  of  ridges  to  the 
east,  and  the  other  along  the  creek  which  runs 
through  the  hilly  plains  to  the  north.  What 
do  you  think  of  it?" 

"Good!"  agreed  the  old  hunter.  "You  two 
go  north — I  take  ridges." 

"No,  you  and  I  will  take  the  ridges  and 
Wabi  will  go  north  alone,"  amended  Rod 
quickly.  "I'm  going  with  you,  Mukoki!" 

Mukoki,  who  was  somewhat  flattered  by 
this  preference  of  the  white  youth,  grinned 
and  chuckled  and  began  to  talk  more  volubly 
about  the  plans  which  were  in  his  head.  It 
was  agreed  that  they  all  would  return  to  the 
cabin  at  an  early  hour  in  the  afternoon,  for  the 
old  Indian  seemed  positive  that  they  would 
have  their  first  wolf  hunt  that  night. 

Rod  noticed  that  the  captive  wolf  received 
no  breakfast  that  morning,  and  he  easily 
guessed  the  reason. 

The  traps  were  now  divided.  Three  differ- 
ent sizes  had  been  brought  from  the  Post — 
fifty  small  ones  for  mink,  marten  and  other 
156 


WOLF 


small  fur  animals;  fifteen  fox  traps,  and  as 
many  larger  ones  for  lynx  and  wolves.  Wabi 
equipped  himself  with  twenty  of  the  small 
traps  and  four  each  of  fox  and  lynx  traps, 
while  Rod  and  Mukoki  took  about  forty  in' 
all.  The  remainder  of  the  caribou  meat  was 
then  cut  into  chunks  and  divided  equally 
among  them  for  bait. 

The  sun  was  just  beginning  to  show  itself 
above  the  wilderness  when  the  hunters  left 
camp.  As  Mukoki  had  predicted,  it  was  a 
glorious  day,  one  of  those  bitterly  cold,  cloud- 
less days  when,  as  the  Indians  believe,  the 
great  Creator  robs  the  rest  of  the  world  of  the 
sun  that  it  may  shine  in  all  its  glory  upon  their 
own  savage  land.  From  the  top  of  the  hill 
that  sheltered  their  home  Rod  looked  out 
over  the  glistening  forests  and  lakes  in  rapt 
and  speechless  admiration ;  but  only  for  a  few 
moments  did  the  three  pause,  then  took  up 
their  different  trails. 

At  the  foot  of  this  hill  Mukoki  and  his  com- 
panion struck  the  creek.  They  had  not  pro- 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

gressed  more  than  fifty  rods  when  the  old  In- 
dian stopped  and  pointed  at  a  fallen  log  which 
spanned  the  stream.  The  snow  on  this  log 
was  beaten  by  tiny  footprints.  Mukoki  gazed 
a  moment,  cast  an  observant  eye  along  the  trail, 
and  at  once  threw  off  his  pack. 

"Mink!"  he  explained.  He  crossed  the 
frozen  creek,  taking  care  not  to  touch  the  log. 
On  the  opposite  side  the  tracks  spread  out  over 
a  windfall  of  trees.  "Whole  family  mink 
live  here,"  continued  Mukoki.  "T'ree — 
mebby  four — mebby  five.  Build  trap-house 
right  here !" 

Never  before  had  Rod  seen  a  trap  set  as  the 
old  Indian  now  set  his.  Very  near  the  end  of 
the  log  over  which  the  mink  made  their  trail 
he  quickly  built  a  shelter  of  sticks  which  when 
completed  was  in  the  form  of  a  tiny  wigwam. 
At  the  back  of  this  was  placed  a  chunk  of  the 
caribou  meat,  and  in  front  of  this  bait,  so  that 
an  animal  would  have  to  spring  it  in  passing, 
was  set  a  trap,  carefully  covered  with  snow 
and  a  few  leaves.  Within  twenty  minutes  Mu- 
158 


WOLF 

koki  had  built  two  of  these  shelters  and  had 
set  two  traps. 

"Why  do  you  build  those  little  houses?" 
asked  Rod,  as  they  again  took  up  their  trail. 

"Much  snow  come  in  winter,"  elucidated 
the  Indian.  "Build  house  to  keep  snow  off 
traps.  No  do  that,  be  digging  out  traps  all 
winter.  When  mink — heem  smell  meat — go 
in  house  he  got  to  go  over  trap.  Make  house 
for  all  small  animal  like  heem.  No  good  for 
lynx.  He  see  house — walk  roun'  V  roun'  'n' 
roun' — and  then  go  'way.  Smart  fellow — 
lynx.  Wolf  and  fox,  too." 

"Is  a  mink  worth  much?" 

"Fi'  dollar — no  less  that.  Seven — eight  dol- 
lar for  good  one." 

During  the  next  mile  six  other  mink  traps 
were  set.  The  creek  now  ran  along  the  edge 
of  a  high  rocky  ridge  and  Mukoki's  eyes  be- 
gan to  shine  with  a  new  interest.  No  longer 
did  he  seem  entirely  absorbed  in  the  discovery 
of  signs  of  fur  animals.  His  eyes  were  con- 
stantly scanning  the  sun-bathed  side  of  the 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

ridge  ahead  and  his  progress  was  slow  and 
cautious.  He  spoke  in  whispers,  and  Rod  fol- 
lowed his  example.  Frequently  the  two  would 
stop  and  scan  the  openings  for  signs  of  life. 
Twice  they  set  fox  traps  where  there  were  evi- 
dent signs  of  runways;  in  a  wild  ravine, 
strewn  with  tumbled  trees  and  masses  of  rock, 
they  struck  a  lynx  track  and  set  a  trap  for  him 
at  each  end  of  the  ravine;  but  even  during 
these  operations  Mukoki's  interest  was  di- 
vided. The  hunters  now  walked  abreast,  about 
fifty  yards  apart,  Rod  never  forging  a  foot 
ahead  of  the  cautious  Mukoki.  Suddenly  the 
youth  heard  a  low  call  and  he  saw  his  com- 
panion beckoning  to  him  with  frantic  enthu- 
siasm. 

"Wolf!"  whispered  Mukoki  as  Rod  joined 
him. 

In  the  snow  were  a  number  of  tracks  that 
reminded  Rod  of  those  made  by  a  dog. 

"T'ree  wolf!"  continued  the  Indian  jubi- 
lantly.   "Travel  early  this  morning.     Some- 
where in  warm  sun  on  mountain  1" 
160 


WOLF 

They  followed  now  in  the  wolf  trail.  A 
little  way  on  Rod  found  part  of  the  carcass 
of  a  rabbit  with  fox  tracks  about  it.  Here  Mu- 
ikoki  set  another  trap.  A  little  farther  still 
they  came  across  a  fisher  trail  and  another 
trap  was  laid.  Caribou  and  deer  tracks 
crossed  and  recrossed  the  creek,  but  the  In- 
dian  paid  little  attention  to  them.  A  fourth 
wolf  joined  the  pack,  and  a  fifth,  and  half  an 
hour  later  the  trail  of  three  other  wolves  cut 
at  right  angles  across  the  one  they  were  fol- 
lowing and  disappeared  in  the  direction  of  the 
thickly  timbered  plains.  Mukoki's  face  was 
crinkled  with  joy. 

"Many  wolf  near,"  he  exclaimed.  "Many 
wolf  off  there  'n'  off  there  'n'  off  there.  Good 
place  for  night  hunt." 

Soon  the  creek  swung  out  from  the  ridge 
and  cut  a  circuitous  channel  through  a  small 
swamp.  Here  there  were  signs  of  wild  life 
which  set  Rod's  heart  thumping  and  his  blood 
tingling  with  excitement.  In  places  the  snow 
was  literally  packed  with  deer  tracks.  Trails 
161 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

ran  in  every  direction,  the  bark  had  been 
rubbed  from  scores  of  saplings,  and  every  step 
gave  fresh  evidence  of  the  near  presence  of 
game.  The  stealth  with  which  Mukoki  now 
advanced  was  almost  painful.  Every  twig 
was  pressed  behind  him  noiselessly,  and  once 
when  Rod  struck  his  snow-shoe  against  the 
butt  of  a  small  tree  the  old  Indian  held  up  his 
hands  in  mock  horror.  Ten  minutes,  fifteen— 
twenty  of  them  passed  in  this  cautious,  breath « 
less  trailing  of  the  swamp. 

Suddenly  Mukoki  stopped,  and  a  hand  was 
held  out  behind  him  warningly.  He  turned 
his  face  back,  and  Rod  knew  that  he  saw 
game.  Inch  by  inch  he  crouched  upon  his 
snow-shoes,  and  beckoned  for  Rod  to  ap- 
proach, slowly,  quietly.  When  the  boy  had 
come  near  enough  he  passed  back  his  rifle,  and 
his  lips  formed  the  almost  noiseless  word, 
"Shoot!" 

Tremblingly  Rod  seized  the  gun  and  looked 
into  the  swamp  ahead,  Mukoki  doubling  down 
in  front  of  him.  What  he  saw  sent  him  for  a 
162 


WOLF 

moment  into  the  first  nervous  tremor  of  buck 
fever.  Not  more  than  a  hundred  yards  away 
stood  a  magnificent  buck  browsing  the  tips  of 
a  clump  of  hazel,  and  just  beyond  him  were 
*:wo  does.  With  a  powerful  effort  Rod  steadied 
himself.  The  buck  was  standing  broadside, 
his  head  and  neck  stretched  up,  offering  a 
beautiful  shot  at  the  vital  spot  behind  his  fore 
leg.  At  this  the  young  hunter  aimed  and  fired. 
With  one  spasmodic  bound  the  animal  drop- 
ped dead. 

Hardly  had  Rod  seen  the  effect  of  his  shot 
before  Mukoki  was  traveling  swiftly  toward 
the  fallen  game,  unstrapping  his  pack  as  he 
ran.  By  the  time  the  youth  reached  his  quar- 
ry the  old  Indian  had  produced  a  large  whisky 
flask  holding  about  a  quart.  Without  explana- 
tion he  now  proceeded  to  thrust  his  knife  into 
the  quivering  animal's  throat  and  fill  this  flask 
with  blood.  When  he  had  finished  his  task  he 
neld  it  up  with  an  air  of  unbounded  satisfac- 
tion. 

"Blood  for  wolf.  Heem  like  blood.  Smell 
163 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

um — come  make  big  shoot  to-night.  No  blood, 
no  bait — no  wolf  shoot  I" 

Mukoki  no  longer  maintained  his  usual 
quiet,  and  it  was  evident  to  Rod  that  the  In- 
dian considered  his  mission  for  that  day  prac- 
tically accomplished.  After  taking  the  heart, 
liver  and  one  of  the  hind  quarters  of  the  buck 
Mukoki  drew  a  long  rope  of  babeesh  from  his 
pack,  tied  one  end  of  it  around  the  animal's 
neck,  flung  the  other  end  over  a  near  limb, 
and  with  his  companion's  assistance  hoisted 
^the  carcass  until  it  was  clear  of  the  ground. 

"If  somethin'  happen  we  no  come  back  to- 
night heem  safe  from  wolf,"  he  explained. 

The  two  now  continued  through  the  swamp. 
At  its  farther  edge  the  ground  rose  gently  from 
the  creek  toward  the  hills,  and  this  sloping 
plain  was  covered  with  huge  boulders  and  a 
thin  growth  of  large  spruce  and  birch.  Just 
beyond  the  creek  was  a  gigantic  rock  which 
immediately  caught  Mukoki's  attention.  All 
sides  except  one  were  too  precipitous  for  as- 
cent, and  even  this  one  could  not  be  climbed 
164 


WOLF 

without  the  assistance  of  a  sapling  or  two. 
They  could  see,  however,  that  the  top  of  the 
rock  was  flat,  and  Mukoki  called  attention  to 
this  fact  with  an  exultant  chuckle. 

"Fine  place  for  wolf  hunt!"  he  exclaimed. 
"Many  wolf  off  there  in  swamp  an'  in  hill. 
We  call  heem  here.  Shoot  from  there!"  He 
pointed  to  a  clump  of  spruce  a  dozen  rods 
away. 

By  Rod's  watch  it  was  now  nearly  noon  and 
the  two  sat  down  to  eat  the  sandwiches  they 
had  brought  with  them.  Only  a  few  minutes 
were  lost  in  taking  up  the  home  trail.  Be- 
yond the  swamp  Mukoki  cut  at  right  angles 
to  their  trap-line  until  he  had  ascended  to  the 
top  of  the  ridge  that  had  been  on  their  right 
and  which  would  take  them  very  near  their 
camp.  From  this  ridge  Rod  could  look  about 
him  upon  a  wild  and  rugged  scene.  On  one 
side  it  sloped  down  to  the  plains,  but  on  the 
other  it  fell  in  almost  sheer  walls,  forming  at 
its  base  five  hundred  feet  below  a  narrow  and 
gloomy  chasm,  through  which  a  small  stream 
165 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

found  its  way.  Several  times  Mukoki  stopped 
and  leaned  perilously  close  to  the  dizzy  edge 
of  the  mountain,  peering  down  with  critical 
eyes,  and  once  when  he  pulled  himself  back 
cautiously  by  means  of  a  small  sapling  he  ex- 
plained his  interest  by  saying: 

"Plenty  bear  there  in  spring!" 

But  Rod  was  not  thinking  of  bears.  Once 
more  his  head  was  filled  with  the  thought  of 
gold.  Perhaps  that  very  chasm  held  the  price- 
less  secret  that  had  died  with  its  owners  half 
a  century  ago.  The  dark  and  gloomy  silence 
that  hung  between  those  two  walls  of  rock, 
the  death-like  desolation,  the  stealthy  wind- 
ings of  the  creek — everything  in  that  dim  and 
mysterious  world  between  the  two  mountains, 
unshattered  by  sound  and  impenetrable  to  the 
winter  sun,  seemed  in  his  mind  to  link  itself 
with  the  tragedy  of  long  ago. 

Did  that  chasm  hold  the  secret  of  the  dead 
men? 

Again  and  again  Rod  found  himself  asking 
this  question  as  he  followed  Mukoki^  and  the 
1 66 


WOLF 

oftener  he  asked  it  the  nearer  he  seemed  to  an 
answer,  until  at  last,  with  a  curious,  thrilling 
certainty  that  set  his  blood  tingling  he  caught 
Mukoki  by  the  arm  and  pointing  back,  said: 
"Mukoki — the  gold  was  found  between 
those  mountains!" 


CHAPTER  IX 

WOLF  TAKES  VENGEANCE  UPON  His  PEOPLE 

FROM  that  hour  was  born  in  Roderick 
Drew's  breast  a  strange,  imperishable 
desire.  Willingly  at  this  moment 
would  he  have  given  up  the  winter  trapping  to 
have  pursued  that  golden  ignis  fatuus  of  all 
ages — the  lure  of  gold.  To  him  the  story  of  the 
old  cabin,  the  skeletons  and  the  treasure  of  the 
buckskin  bag  was  complete.  Those  skeletons 
had  once  been  men.  They  had  found  a  mine 
—a  place  where  they  had  picked  up  nuggets 
with  their  fingers.  And  that  treasure  ground 
was  somewhere  near.  No  longer  was  he  puz- 
zled by  the  fact  that  they  had  discovered  no 
more  gold  in  the  old  log  cabin.  In  a  flash  he 
had  solved  that  mystery.  The  men  had  just 
begun  to  gather  their  treasure  when  they  had 
fought.  What  was  more  logical  than  that? 
1 68 


WOLF   TAKES   VENGEANCE 

One  day,  two,  three — and  they  had  quarreled 
over  division,  over  rights.  That  was  the  time 
when  they  were  most  likely  to  quarrel.  Per- 
haps one  had  discovered  the  gold  and  had- 
therefore  claimed  a  larger  share.  Anyway,  the' 
contents  of  the  buckskin  bag  represented  but 
a  few  days'  labor.  Rod  was  sure  of  that. 

Mukoki  had  grinned  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders  with  an  air  of  stupendous  doubt 
when  Rod  had  told  him  that  the  gold  lay  be- 
tween the  mountains,  so  now  the  youth  kept 
his  thoughts  to  himself.  It  was  a  silent  trail 
home.  Rod's  mind  was  too  active  in  its  new 
channel,  and  he  was  too  deeply  absorbed  in 
impressing  upon  his  memory  certain  land- 
marks which  they  passed  to  ask  questions ;  and 
Mukoki,  with  the  natural  taciturnity  of  his 
race,  seldom  found  occasion  to  break  into  con- 
versation unless  spoken  to  first.  Although  his 
eyes  were  constantly  on  the  alert,  Rod  could 
see  no  way  in  which  a  descent  could  be  made 
into  the  chasm  from  the  ridge  they  were  on. 
This  was  a  little  disappointing,  for  he  had 
169 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

made  up  his  mind  to  explore  the  gloomy,  sun- 
less gulch  at  his  first  opportunity.  He  had  no 
doubt  that  Wabi  would  join  in  the  adventure. 
Or  he  might  take  his  own  time,  and  explore  it 
alone.  He  was  reasonably  sure  that  from  some- 
where on  the  opposite  ridge  a  descent  could  be 
made  into  it. 

Wabi  was  in  camp  when  they  arrived.  He 
had  set  eighteen  traps  and  had  shot  two  spruce 
partridges.  The  birds  were  already  cleaned 
for  their  early  supper,  and  a  thick  slice  of 
venison  steak  was  added  to  the  menu.  During 
the  preparation  of  the  meal  Rod  described 
their  discovery  of  the  chasm  and  revealed  some 
of  his  thoughts  concerning  it,  but  Wabi  be- 
trayed only  passing  flashes  of  interest.  At 
times  he  seemed  strangely  preoccupied  and 
would  stand  in  an  idle,  contemplative  mood, 
his  hands  buried  deep  in  his  pockets,  while 
Rod  or  Mukoki  proceeded  with  the  little  du- 
ties about  the  table  or  the  stove.  Finally, 
after  arousing  himself  from  one  of  these  mo- 
170 


WOLF  TAKES   VENGEANCE 

mentary  spells,  he  pulled  a  brass  shell  from  his 
pocket  and  held  it  out  to  the  old  Indian. 

"See  here,"  he  said.  "I  don't  want  to  stir  up 
any  false  fears,  or  anything  of  that  sort — but  I 
found  that  on  the  trail  to-day!" 

Mukoki  clutched  at  the  shell  as  though  it 
had  been  another  newly  found  nugget  of  gold. 
The  shell  was  empty.  The  lettering  on  the 
rim  was  still  very  distinct.  He  read  ".35 
Rem." 

"Why,  that's—" 

"A  shell  from  Rod's  gun!" 

For  a  few  moments  Rod  and  Mukoki  stared 
at  the  young  Indian  in  blank  amazement. 

"It's  a  .35  caliber  Remington,"  continued 
Wabi,  "and  it's  an  auto-loading  shell.  There 
are  only  three  guns  like  that  in  this  country. 
I've  got  one,  Mukoki  has  another — and  you 
lost  the  third  in  your  fight  with  the  Woongas  I" 

The  venison  had  begun  to  burn,  and  Mu- 
koki quickly  transferred  it  to  the  table.  With- 
out a  word  the  three  sat  down  to  their  meal. 
171 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

"That  means  the  Woongas  are  on  our  trail," 
declared  Rod  presently. 

"That  is  what  I  have  been  trying  to  reason 
out  all  the  afternoon,"  replied  Wabi.  "It  cer- 
tainly is  proof  that  they  are,  or  have  been 
quite  recently,  on  this  side  of  the  mountain. 
But  I  don't  believe  they  know  we  are  here. 
The  trail  I  struck  was  about  five  miles  from 
camp.  It  was  at  least  two  days  old.  Three 
Indians  on  snow-shoes  were  traveling  north. 
I  followed  back  on  their  trail  and  found  after 
a  time  that  the  Indians  had  come  from  the 
north,  which  leads  me  to  believe  that  they 
were  simply  on  a  hunting  expedition,  cut  a 
circle  southward,  and  then  returned  to  their 
camp.  I  don't  believe  they  will  come  farther 
south.  But  we  must  keep  our  eyes  open." 

Wabi's  description  of  the  manner  in  which 
the  strange  trail  turned  gave  great  satisfaction 
to  Mukoki,  who  nodded  affirmatively  when 
the  young  hunter  expressed  it  as  his  belief 
that  the  Woongas  would  not  come  so  far  as 
their  camp.  But  the  discovery  of  their  pres- 
172 


WOLF  TAKES   VENGEANCE 

ence  chilled  the  buoyant  spirits  of  the  hunters. 
There  was,  however,  a  new  spice  of  adventure 
lurking  in  this  possible  peril  that  was  not  alto- 
gether displeasing,  and  by  the  time  the  meal 
was  at  an  end  something  like  a  plan  of  cam- 
paign had  been  formed.  The  hunters  would 
not  wait  to  be  attacked  and  then  act  in  self-de- 
fense, possibly  at  a  disadvantage.  They  would 
be  constantly  on  the  lookout  for  the  Woongas, 
and  if  a  fresh  trail  or  a  camp  was  found  they 
would  begin  the  man-hunt  themselves. 

The  sun  was  just  beginning  to  sink  behind 
the  distant  hills  in  the  southwest  when  the 
hunters  again  left  camp.  Wolf  had  received 
nothing  to  eat  since  the  previous  night,  and 
with  increasing  hunger  the  fiery  impatience 
lurking  in  his  eyes  and  the  restlessness  of  his 
movements  became  more  noticeable.  Mukoki 
called  attention  to  these  symptoms  with  a 
gloating  satisfaction.  . 

The  gloom  of  early  evening  was  enveloping 
the  wilderness  by  the  time  the  three  wolf 
hunters  reached  the  swamp  in  which  Rod  had 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

slain  the  buck.  While  he  carried  the  guns  and 
packs,  Mukoki  and  Wabigoon  dragged  the 
buck  between  them  to  the  huge  flat-top  rock. 
Now  for  the  first  time  the  city  youth  began  tc 
understand  the  old  pathfinder's  scheme.  Sev- 
eral saplings  were  cut,  and  by  means  of  a  long 
rope  of  babeesh  the  deer  was  dragged  up  the 
side  of  the  rock  until  it  rested  securely  upon 
the  flat  space.  From  the  dead  buck's  neck  the 
babeesh  rope  was  now  stretched  across  the  in- 
tervening space  between  the  rock  and  the 
clump  of  cedars  in  which  the  hunters  were  to 
conceal  themselves.  In  two  of  these  cedars,  at 
a  distance  of  a  dozen  feet  from  the  ground, 
were  quickly  made  three  platforms  of  sap- 
lings, upon  which  the  ambushed  watchers 
could  comfortably  seat  themselves.  By  the 
time  complete  darkness  had  fallen  the  "trap" 
was  finished,  with  the  exception  of  a  detail 
which  Rod  followed  with  great  interest. 

From  inside  his  clothes,  where  it  had  been 
kept  warm  by  his  body,  Mukoki  produced  the 
flask  of  blood.  A  third  of  this  blood  he  scat- 


WOLF   TAKES   VENGEANCE 

tered  upon  the  face  of  the  rock  and  upon  tb/ 
snow  at  its  base.  The  remainder  he  distrib- 
uted, drop  by  drop,  in  trails  running  toward 
the  swamp  and  plains. 

There  still  remained  three  hours  before  the 
moon  would  be  up,  and  the  hunters  now  joined 
Wolf,  who  had  been  fastened  half-way  up  the 
ridge.  In  the  shelter  of  a  big  rock  a  small  fire 
was  built,  and  during  their  long  wait  the  hunt- 
ers passed  the  time  away  by  broiling  and  eat- 
ing chunks  of  venison  and  in  going  over  again 
the  events  of  the  day. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  before  the  moon  rose 
above  the  edge  of  the  wilderness.  This  great 
orb  of  the  Northern  night  seemed  to  hold  a 
never-ending  fascination  for  Rod.  It  crept 
above  the  forests,  a  glowing,  throbbing  ball  of 
red,  quivering  and  palpitating  in  an  effulgence 
that  neither  cloud  nor  mist  dimmed  in  this 
desolation  beyond  the  sphere  of  man ;  and  as  it 
rose,  almost  with  visible  movement  to  the  eyes, 
the  blood  in  it  faded,  until  at  last  it  seemed  a 
great  blaze  of  soft  light  between  silver  and 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

gold.  It  was  then  that  the  whole  world  was 
lighted  up  under  it.  It  was  then  that  Mukoki, 
speaking  softly,  beckoned  the  others  to  foHow 
him,  and  with  Wolf  at  his  side  went  down  the 
ridge. 

Making  a  circuit  around  the  back  of  the 
rock,  Mukoki  paused  near  a  small  sapling 
twenty  yards  from  the  dead  buck  and  secured 
Wolf  by  his  babeesh  thong.  Hardly  had  he 
done  so  when  the  animal  began  to  exhibit  signs 
of  excitement.  He  trotted  about  nervously, 
sniffing  the  air,  gathering  the  wind  from  every 
direction,  and  his  jaws  dropped  with  a  snarl- 
ing whine.  Then  he  struck  one  of  the  clots  of 
blood  in  the  snow. 

"Come,"  whispered  Wabi,  pulling  at  Rod's 
sleeve,  "come — quietly." 

They  slipped  back  among  the  shadows  of 
the  spruce  and  watched  Wolf  in  unbroken  si- 
lence. The  animal  now  stood  rigidly  over  the 
blood  clot.  His  head  was  level  with  his  quiv- 
ering back,  his  ears  half  aslant,  his  nostrils 
pointing  to  a  strange  thrilling  scent  that  came 
176 


WOLF  TAKES   VENGEANCE 

to  him  from  somewhere  out  there  in  the  moon- 
light. Once  more  the  instinct  of  his  breed  was 
flooding  the  soul  of  the  captive  wolf.  There 
was  the  odor  of  blood  in  his  widening  nostrils. 
It  was  not  the  blood  of  the  camp,  of  the 
slaughtered  game  dragged  in  by  human  hands 
before  his  eyes.  It  was  the  blood  of  the  chase! 

A  flashing  memory  of  his  captors  turned  the 
animal's  head  for  an  instant  in  backward  in- 
spection. They  were  gone.  He  could  neither 
hear  nor  see  them.  He  sniffed  the  sign  of  hu- 
man presence,  but  that  sign  was  always  with 
him,  and  was  not  disturbing.  The  blood  held 
him — and  the  strange  scent,  the  game  scent — 
that  was  coming  to  him  more  clearly  every  in- 
stant. 

He  crunched  about  cautiously  in  the  snow, 
He  found  other  spots  of  blood,  and  to  the 
watchers  there  came  a  low  long  whine  that 
seemed  about  to  end  in  the  wolf  song.  The 
blood  trails  were  leading  him  away  toward 
the  game  scent,  and  he  tugged  viciously  at  the 
babeesh  that  held  him  captive,  gnawing  at  it 
177 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

vainly,  like  an  angry  dog,  forgetting  what  ex- 
perience had  taught  him  many  times  before. 
Each  moment  added  to  his  excitement.  He  ran 
about  the  sapling,  gulped  mouthfuls  of  the 
bloody  snow,  and  each  time  he  paused  for  a 
moment  with  his  open  dripping  jaws  held  to- 
ward the  dead  buck  on  the  rock.  The  game 
was  very  near.  Brute  sense  told  him  that.  Oh> 
the  longing  that  was  in  him,  the  twitching, 
quivering  longing  to  kill — kill — kill ! 

He  made  another  effort,  tore  up  the  snow  in 
his  frantic  endeavors  to  free  himself,  to  break 
loose,  to  follow  in  the  wild  glad  cry  of  freed 
savagery  in  the  calling  of  his  people.  He 
failed  again,  panting,  whining  in  piteous  help- 
lessness. 

Then  he  settled  upon  his  haunches  at  the  end 
of  his  babeesh  thong. 

For  a  moment  his  head  turned  to  the  moon- 
lit sky,  his  long  nose  poised  at  right  angles  to 
the  bristling  hollows  between  his  shoulders. 

There  came  then  a  low,  whining  wail,  like 
the  beginning  of  the  "death-song"  of  a  husky 
178 


WOLF   TAKES   VENGEANCE 

dog — a  wail  that  grew  in  length  and  in 
strength  and  in  volume  until  it  rose  weirdly 
among  the  mountains  and  swept  far  out  over 
the  plains — the  hunt  call  of  the  wolf  on  the 
trail,  which  calls  to  him  the  famished,  gray- 
gaunt  outlaws  of  the  wilderness,  as  the  bugler's 
notes  call  his  fellows  on  the  field  of  battle. 

Three  times  that  blood-thrilling  cry  went  up 
from  the  captive  wolf's  throat,  and  before 
those  cries  had  died  away  the  three  hunters 
were  perched  upon  their  platforms  among  the 
spruce. 

There  followed  now  the  ominous,  waiting 
silence  of  an  awakened  wilderness.  Rod  could 
hear  his  heart  throbbing  within  him.  He  for- 
got the  intense  cold.  His  nerves  tingled.  He 
looked  out  over  the  endless  plains,  white  and 
mysteriously  beautiful  as  they  lay  bathed  in 
the  glow  of  the  moon.  And  Wabi  knew  more 
than  he  what  was  happening.  All  over  that 
wild  desolation  the  call  of  the  wolf  had  car- 
ried its  meaning.  Down  there,  where  a  lake 
lay  silent  in  its  winter  sleep,  a  doe  started  in 
179 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

trembling  and  fear;  beyond  the  mountain  a 
huge  bull  moose  lifted  his  antlered  head  with 
battle-glaring  eyes;  half  a  mile  away  a  fox 
paused  for  an  instant  in  its  sleuth-like  stalking 
of  a  rabbit;  and  here  and  there  in  that  world 
of  wild  things  the  gaunt  hungry  people  of 
Wolf's  blood  stopped  in  their  trails  and  turned 
their  heads  toward  the  signal  that  was  coming 
in  wailing  echoes  to  their  ears. 

And  then  the  silence  was  broken.  From 
afar — it  might  have  been  a  mile  away — there 
came  an  answering  cry;  and  at  that  cry  the 
wolf  at  the  end  of  his  babeesh  thong  settled 
upon  his  haunches  again  and  sent  back  the  call 
that  comes  only  when  there  is  blood  upon  the 
trail  or  when  near  the  killing  time. 

There  was  not  the  rustle  of  a  bough,  not  a 
word  spoken,  by  the  silent  watchers  in  the 
spruce.  Mukoki  had  slipped  back  and  half 
lay  across  his  support  in  shooting  attitude. 
Wabi  had  braced  a  foot,  and  his  rifle  was  half 
to  his  shoulder,  leveled  over  a  knee.  It  was 
Rod's  turn  with  the  big  revolver,  and  he  had 
1 80 


WOLF   TAKES   VENGEANCE 

practised  aiming  through  a  crotch  that  gave 
a  rest  to  his  arm. 

In  a  few  moments  there  came  again  the 
howl  of  the  distant  wolf  on  the  plains,  and  this 
time  it  was  joined  by  another  away  to  the  west- 
ward. And  after  that  there  came  two  from  the 
plains  instead  of  one,  and  then  a  far  cry  to  the 
north  and  east.  For  the  first  time  Rod  and 
Wabi  heard  the  gloating  chuckle  of  Mukoki 
in  his  spruce  a  dozen  feet  away. 

At  the  increasing  responses  of  his  brethren 
Wolf  became  more  frantic  in  his  efforts.  The 
scent  of  fresh  blood  and  of  wounded  game  was 
becoming  maddening  to  the  captive.  But  his 
frenzy  no  longer  betrayed  itself  in  futile  ef- 
forts to  escape  from  the  babeesh  thong.  Wolf 
knew  that  his  cries  were  assembling  the  hunt- 
pack.  Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  responses 
of  the  leaders,  and  there  were  now  only  mo- 
mentary rests  between  the  deep-throated  ex- 
hortations which  he  sent  in  all  directions  into 
the  night. 

Suddenly,  almost  from  the  swamp  itself, 
181 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

there  came  a  quick,  excited,  yelping  reply,  and 
Wabi  gripped  Rod  by  the  arm. 

"He  has  struck  the  place  where  you  killed 
the  buck,"  he  whispered.  "There'll  be  quick 
work  now  I" 

Hardly  had  he  spoken  when  a  series  of  ex- 
cited howls  broke  forth  from  the  swamp,  com- 
ing nearer  and  nearer  as  the  hunger-crazed 
outlaw  of  the  plains  followed  over  the  rich- 
scented  trail  made  by  the  two  Indians  as  they 
carried  the  slaughtered  deer.  Soon  he  nosed 
one  of  the  trails  of  blood,  and  a  moment  later 
the  watchers  saw  a  gaunt  shadow  form  run- 
ning swiftly  over  the  snow  toward  Wolf. 

For  an  instant,  as  the  two  beasts  of  prey  met, 
there  fell  a  silence;  then  both  animais  joined 
in  the  wailing  hunt-pack  cry,  and  the  wolf 
that  was  free  came  to  the  edge  of  the  great 
rock  and  stood  with  his  fore  feet  on  its  side, 
and  his  cry  changed  from  that  of  the  chase  to 
the  still  more  thrilling  signal  that  told  the 
gathering  pack  of  game  at  bay. 

Swiftly  the  wolves  closed  in.  From  over  the 
182 


WOLF   TAKES   VENGEANCE 


edge  of  the  mountain  one  came  and  joined  the 
wolf  at  the  rock  without  the  hunters  seeing  his 
approach.  From  out  of  the  swamp  there  came 
a  pack  of  three,  and  now  about  the  rock  there 
grew  a  maddened,  yelping  horde,  clambering 
and  scrambling  and  righting  in  their  efforts  to 
climb  up  to  the  game  that  was  so  near  and  yet 
beyond  their  reach.  And  sixty  feet  away  Wolf 
crouched,  watching  the  gathering  of  his  clan, 
helpless,  panting  from  his  choking  efforts  to 
free  himself,  and  quieting,  gradually  quieting, 
until  in  sullen  silence  he  looked  upon  the 
scene,  as  though  he  knew  the  moment  was  very 
near  when  that  thrilling  spectacle  would  be 
changed  into  a  scene  of  direst  tragedy. 

And  it  was  Mukoki  who  had  first  said  that 
this  was  the  vengeance  of  Wolf  upon  his 
people. 

From  Mukoki  there  now  came  a  faint  hiss- 
ing warning,  and  Wabi  threw  his  rifle  to  his 
shoulder.  There  were  at  least  a  score  of 
wolves  at  the  base  of  the  rock.  Gradually  the 
old  Indian  pulled  upon  the  babeesh  rope  that 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

led  to  the  dead  buck — pulled  until  he  was  put- 
ting a  half  of  his  strength  into  the  effort,  and 
could  feel  the  animal  slowly  slipping  from  the 
flat  ledge.  A  moment  more  and  the  buck  tum- 
bled down  in  the  midst  of  the  waiting  pack. 

As  flies  gather  upon  a  lump  of  sugar  the 
famished  animals  now  crowded  and  crushed 
and  fought  over  the  deer's  body,  and  as  they 
came  thus  together  there  sounded  the  quick 
sharp  signal  to  fire  from  Mukoki. 

For  five  seconds  the  edge  of  the  spruce  was 
a  blaze  of  death-dealing  flashes,  and  the  deaf- 
ening reports  of  the  two  rifles  and  the  big  Colt 
drowned  the  cries  and  struggles  of  the  ani- 
mals. When  those  five  seconds  were  over  fif- 
teen shots  had  been  fired,  and  five  seconds 
later  the  vast,  beautiful  silence  of  the  wilder- 
ness night  had  fallen  again.  About  the  rock 
was  the  silence  of  death,  broken  only  faintly 
by  the  last  gasping  throes  of  the  animals  that 
lay  dying  in  the  snow. 

In  the  trees  there  sounded  the  metallic  clink 
of  loading  shells. 

184 


WOLF  TAKES   VENGEANCE 

Wabi  spoke  first. 

"I  believe  we  did  a  good  job,  Mukoki!" 

Mukoki's  reply  was  to  slip  down  his  tree. 
The  others  followed,  and  hastened  across  to 
the  rock.  Five  bodies  lay  motionless  in  the 
snow.  A  sixth  was  dragging  himself  around 
the  side  of  the  rock,  and  Mukoki  attacked  it 
with  his  belt-ax.  Still  a  seventh  had  run  for  a 
dozen  rods,  leaving  a  crimson  trail  behind, 
and  when  Wabi  and  Rod  came  up  to  it  the 
animal  was  convulsed  in  its  last  dying  strug- 
gles. 

"Seven!"  exclaimed  the  Indian  youth. 
"That  is  one  of  the  best  shoots  we  ever  had.  A 
hundred  and  five  dollars  in  a  night  isn't  bad, 
is  it?" 

The  two  came  back  to  the  rock,  dragging 
the  wolf  with  them.  Mukoki  was  standing  as 
rigid  as  a  statue  in  the  moonlight,  his  face 
turned  into  the  north.  He  pointed  one  arm  far 
out  over  the  plains,  and  said,  without  turning 
his  head, 

"See!" 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

Far  out  in  that  silent  desolation  the  hunters 
saw  a  lurid  flash  of  flame.  It  climbed  up  and 
up,  until  it  filled  the  night  above  it  with  a  dull 
glow — a  single  unbroken  stream  of  fire  that 
rose  far  above  the  swamps  and  forests  of  the 
plains. 

"That's  a  burning  jackpine!"  said  Wabi- 
goon. 

"Burning  jackpine!"  agreed  the  old  war- 
rior. Then  he  added,  "Woonga  signal  fire!" 


1 86 


CHAPTER   X 

RODERICK  EXPLORES  THE  CHASM 

TO  Rod  the  blazing  pine  seemed  to  be 
but  a  short  distance  away — a  mile, 
perhaps  a  little  more.  In  the  silence 
of  the  two  Indians  as  they  contemplated  the 
strange  fire  he  read  an  ominous  meaning.  In 
Mukoki's  eyes  was  a  dull  sullen  glare,  not  un- 
like that  which  fills  the  orbs  of  a  wild  beast  in 
a  moment  of  deadly  anger.  Wabi's  face  was 
filled  with  an  eager  flush,  and  three  times,  Rod 
observed,  he  turned  eyes  strangely  burning 
with  some  unnatural  passion  upon  Mukoki. 

Slowly,  even  as  the  instincts  of  his  race  had 
aroused  the  latent,  brutish  love  of  slaughter 
and  the  chase  in  the  tamed  wolf,  the  long 
smothered  instincts  of  these  human  children  of 
the  forest  began  to  betray  themselves  in  their 
bronzed  countenances.  Rod  watched,  and  he 
187 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

was  thrilled  to  the  soul.  Back  at  the  old  cabin 
they  had  declared  war  upon  the  Woongas. 
Both  Mukoki  and  Wabigoon  had  slipped  the 
leashes  that  had  long  restrained  them  from 
meting  first  vengeance  upon  their  enemies. 
Now  the  opportunity  had  come.  For  five  min- 
utes the  great  pine  blazed,  and  then  died  away 
until  it  was  only  a  smoldering  tower  of  light. 
Still  Mukoki  gazed,  speechless  and  grim,  out 
into  the  distance  of  the  night  At  last  Wabi 
broke  the  silence. 

"How  far  away  is  it,  Muky?" 

"Tree  mile,"   answered   the   old  warrior 
without  hesitation. 

"We  could  make  it  in  forty  minutes." 

"Yes." 

Wabi  turned  to  Rod. 

"You  can  find  your  way  back  to  camp  alone, 
can't  you?"  he  asked. 

"Not  if  you're  going  over  there!"  declared 
the  white  boy.  "I'm  going  with  you." 

Mukoki  broke  in  upon  them  with  a  harsh 
disappointed  laugh. 

188 


RODERICK   EXPLORES   THE   CHASM 

"No  go.  No  go  over  there."  He  spoke  with 
emphasis,  and  shook  his  head.  "We  lose  pine 
in  five  minutes.  No  find  Woonga  camp — 
make  big  trail  for  Woongas  to  see  in  morning. 
Better  wait.  Follow  um  trail  in  day,  then 
shoot  1" 

Rod  found  immense  relief  in  the  old  In- 
dian's decision.  He  did  not  fear  a  fight;  in 
fact,  he  was  a  little  too  anxious  to  meet  the  out- 
laws who  had  stolen  his  gun,  now  that  they  had 
determined  upon  opening  fire  on  sight.  But 
in  this  instance  he  was  possessed  of  the  cooler 
judgment  of  his  race.  He  believed  that  as  yet 
the  Woongas  were  not  aware  of  their  presence 
in  this  region,  and  that  there  was  still  a  large 
possibility  of  the  renegades  traveling  north- 
ward beyond  their  trapping  sphere.  He  hoped 
that  this  would  be  the  case,  in  spite  of  his  de- 
sire to  recapture  his  gun.  A  scrimmage  with 
the  Woongas  just  now  would  spoil  the  plans 
he  had  made  for  discovering  gold. 

The  "Skeleton  Mine,"  as  he  had  come  to 
call  it,  now  absorbed  his  thoughts  beyond 
189 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

everything  else.  He  felt  confident  that  he 
would  discover  the  lost  treasure  ground  if 
given  time,  and  he  was  just  as  confident  that  if 
war  was  once  begun  between  themselves  and 
the  Woongas  it  would  mean  disaster  or  quick 
flight  from  the  country.  Even  Wabi,  worked 
up  more  in  battle  enthusiasm  than  by  gold 
fever,  conceded  that  if  half  of  the  Woongas 
were  in  this  country  they  were  much  too 
powerful  for  them  to  cope  with  successfully, 
especially  as  one  of  them  was  without  a  rifle. 

It  was  therefore  with  inward  exultation  that 
Rod  saw  the  project  of  attack  dropped  and 
Mukoki  and  Wabigoon  proceed  with  their 
short  task  of  scalping  the  seven  wolves.  Dur- 
ing this  operation  Wolf  was  allowed  to  feast 
upon  the  carcass  of  the  buck. 

That  night  there  was  but  little  sleep  in  the 
old  cabin.  It  was  two  o'clock  when  the  hunt- 
ers arrived  in  camp  and  from  that  hour  until 
nearly  four  they  sat  about  the  hot  stove  mak- 
ing plans  for  the  day  that  was  nearly  at  hand. 
Rod  could  but  contrast  the  excitement  that  had 
190 


RODERICK    EXPLORES   THE   CHASM 

now  taken  possession  of  them  with  the  tranquil 
joy  with  which  they  had  first  taken  up  their 
abode  in  this  dip  in  the  hilltop.  And  how  dif- 
ferent were  their  plans  from  those  of  two  or 
three  days  ago!  Not  one  of  them  now  but 
realized  their  peril.  They  were  in  an  ideal 
hunting  range,  but  it  was  evidently  very  near, 
if  not  actually  in,  the  Woonga  country.  At  any 
moment  they  might  be  forced  to  fight  for  their 
lives  or  abandon  their  camp,  and  perhaps  they 
would  be  compelled  to  do  both. 

So  the  gathering  about  the  stove  was  in  real- 
ity a  small  council  of  war.  It  was  decided  that 
the  old  cabin  should  immediately  be  put  into 
a  condition  of  defense,  with  a  loophole  on  each 
side,  strong  new  bars  at  the  door,  and  with  a 
thick  barricade  near  at  hand  that  could  be 
quickly  fitted  against  the  window  in  case  of 
attack.  Until  the  war-clouds  cleared  away,  if 
they  cleared  at  all,  the  camp  would  be  continu- 
ally guarded  by  one  of  the  hunters,  and  with 
this  garrison  would  be  left  both  of  the  heavy 
revolvers.  At  dawn  or  a  little  later  Mukoki 
191 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

would  set  out  upon  Wabi's  trap-line,  both  to 
become  acquainted  with  it  and  to  extend  the 
line  of  traps,  while  later  in  the  day  the  Indian 
youth  would  follow  Mukoki's  line,  visiting 
the  houses  already  built  and  setting  other  traps. 
This  scheme  left  to  Rod  the  first  day's  watch 
in  camp. 

Mukoki  aroused  himself  from  his  short 
sleep  with  the  first  approach  of  dawn  but  did 
not  awaken  his  tired  companions  until  break- 
fast was  ready.  When  the  meal  was  finished 
he  seized  his  gun  and  signified  his  intention  of 
visiting  the  mink  traps  just  beyond  the  hill  be- 
fore leaving  on  his  long  day's  trail.  Rod  at 
once  joined  him,  leaving  Wabi  to  wash  the 
dishes. 

They  were  shortly  within  view  of  the  trap- 
houses  near  the  creek.  Instinctively  the  eyes 
of  both  rested  upon  these  houses  and  neither 
gave  very  close  attention  to  the  country  ahead 
or  about  them.  As  a  result  both  were  exceed- 
ingly startled  when  they  heard  a  huge  snort 
and  a  great  crunching  in  the  deep  snow  close 
192 


RODERICK   EXPLORES   THE   CHASM 

beside  them.  From  out  of  a  small  growth  of 
alders  had  dashed  a  big  bull  moose,  who  was 
now  tearing  with  the  speed  of  a  horse  up  the 
hillside  toward  the  hidden  camp,  evidently 
seeking  the  quick  shelter  of  the  dip. 

"Wait  heem  git  top  of  hill!"  shouted  Mu- 
koki,  swinging  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder. 
"Wait!" 

It  was  a  beautiful  shot  and  Rod  was  tempted 
to  ignore  the  old  Indian's  advice.  But  he  knew 
that  there  was  some  good  reason  for  it,  so  he 
held  his  trembling  finger.  Hardly  had  the  ani- 
mal's huge  antlered  head  risen  to  the  sky-line 
when  Mukoki  shouted  again,  and  the  young 
hunter  pressed  the  trigger  of  his  automatic  gun 
three  times  in  rapid  succession.  It  was  a  short 
shot,  not  more  than  two  hundred  yards,  and 
Mukoki  fired  but  once  just  as  the  bull  mounted 
the  hilltop. 

The  next  instant  the  moose  was  gone  and 
Rod  was  just  about  to  dash  in  pursuit  when 
his  companion  caught  him  by  the  arm. 

"We  got  urn!"  he  grinned.  "He  run  down- 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

hill,  then  fall — ver'  close  to  camp.  Ver'  good 
scheme — wait  heem  git  on  top  hill.  No  have 
to  carry  meat  far!" 

As  coolly  as  though  nothing  had  occurred 
the  Indian  turned  again  in  the  direction  of  the 
traps.  Rod  stood  as  though  he  had  been  nailed 
to  the  spot,  his  mouth  half  open  in  astonish- 
ment. 

"We  go  see  traps,"  urged  Mukoki.  "Find 
moose  dead  when  we  go  back." 

But  Roderick  Drew,  who  had  hunted  noth- 
ing larger  than  house  rats  in  his  own  city,  was 
not  the  young  man  to  see  the  logic  of  this  rea- 
soning, and  before  Mukoki  could  open  his 
mouth  again  he  was  hurrying  up  the  hill.  On 
its  summit  he  saw  a  huge  torn-up  blotch  in  the 
snow,  spattered  with  blood,  where  the  moose 
had  fallen  first  after  the  shots ;  and  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill,  as  the  Indian  had  predicted,  the 
great  animal  lay  dead. 

Wabi  was  hastening  across  the  lake,  at- 
tracted by  the  shots,  and  both  reached  the  slain 
bull  at  about  the  same  time.  Rod  quickly  per- 
194 


RODERICK   EXPLORES   THE   CHASM 

ceived  that  three  shots  had  taken  effect;  one, 
which  was  undoubtedly  Mukoki's  carefully 
directed  ball,  in  a  vital  spot  behind  the  fore 
leg,  and  two  through  the  body.  The  fact  that 
two  of  his  own  shots  had  taken  good  effect 
filled  the  white  youth  with  enthusiasm,  and  he 
was  still  gesticulating  excitedly  in  describing 
the  bull's  flight  to  Wabi  when  the  old  Indian 
came  over  the  hill,  grinning  broadly,  and 
holding  up  for  their  inspection  a  magnificent 
mink. 

The  day  could  not  have  begun  more  auspi- 
ciously for  the  hunters,  and  by  the  time  Mu- 
koki  was  ready  to  leave  upon  his  long  trail  the 
adventurers  were  in  buoyant  spirits,  the  dis- 
tressing fears  of  the  preceding  night  being 
somewhat  dispelled  by  their  present  good  for- 
tune and  the  glorious  day  which  now  broke  in 
full  splendor  upon  the  wilderness. 

Until  their  early  dinner  Wabi  remained  in 
camp,  securing  certain  parts  of  the  moose  and 
assisting  Rod  in  putting  the  cabin  into  a  state 
of  defense  according  to  their  previous  plans. 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

ft  was  not  yet  noon  when  he  started  over  Mu- 
koki's  trap-line. 

Left  to  his  own  uninterrupted  thoughts. 
Rod's  mind  was  once  more  absorbed  in  his 
scheme  of  exploring  the  mysterious  chasm.  He 
had  noticed  during  his  inspection  from  the  top 
of  the  ridge  that  the  winter  snows  had  as  yet 
fallen  but  little  in  the  gloomy  gulch  between 
the  mountains,  and  he  was  eager  to  attempt  his 
adventure  before  other  snows  came  or  the 
fierce  blizzards  of  December  filled  the  chasm 
with  drifts.  Later  in  the  afternoon  he  brought 
forth  the  buckskin  bag  from  a  niche  in  the  log 
wall  where  it  had  been  concealed,  and  one 
after  another  carefully  examined  the  golden 
nuggets.  He  found,  as  he  had  expected,  that 
they  were  worn  to  exceeding  smoothness,  and 
that  every  edge  had  been  dulled  and  rounded. 
Rod's  favorite  study  in  school  had  been  a 
minor  branch  of  geology  and  mineralogy,  and 
he  knew  that  only  running  water  could  work 
this  smoothness.  He  was  therefore  confident 
that  the  nuggets  had  been  discovered  in  or  on 
196 


RODERICK   EXPLORES   THE   CHASM 

the  edge  of  a  running  stream.  And  that 
stream,  he  was  sure,  was  the  one  in  the  chasm. 

But  Rod's  plans  for  an  early  investigation 
were  doomed  to  disappointment.  Late  that 
day  both  Mukoki  and  Wabi  returned,  the  lat- 
ter with  a  red  fox  and  another  mink,  the  for- 
mer with  a  fisher,  which  reminded  Rod  of  a 
dog  just  growing  out  of  puppyhood,  and  an- 
other story  of  strange  trails  that  renewed  their 
former  apprehensions.  The  old  Indian  had  dis- 
covered the  remnants  of  the  burned  jackpine, 
and  about  it  were  the  snow-shoe  tracks  of  three 
Indians.  One  of  these  trails  came  from  the 
north  and  two  from  the  west,  which  led  him 
to  believe  that  the  pine  had  been  fired  as  a 
signal  to  call  the  two.  At  the  very  end  of  their 
trap-line,  which  extended  about  four  miles 
from  camp,  a  single  snow-shoe  trail  had  cut 
across  at  right  angles,  also  swinging  into  the 
north. 

These  discoveries  necessitated  a  new  ar- 
rangement of  the  plans  that  had  been  made  the 
preceding  night.  Hereafter,  it  was  agreed, 
197 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

only  one  trap-line  would  be  visited  each  day, 
and  by  two  of  the  hunters  in  company,  both 
armed  with  rifles.  Rod  saw  that  this  meant  the 
abandonment  of  his  scheme  for  exploring  the 
chasm,  at  least  for  the  present. 

Day  after  day  now  passed  without  evidences 
of  new  trails,  and  each  day  added  to  the  hopes 
of  the  adventurers  that  they  were  at  last  to  be 
left  alone  in  the  country.  Never  had  Mukoki 
or  Wabigoon  been  in  a  better  trapping  ground, 
and  every  visit  to  their  lines  added  to  their 
hoard  of  furs.  If  left  unmolested  it  was 
plainly  evident  that  they  would  take  a  small 
fortune  back  to  Wabinosh  House  with  them 
early  in  the  spring.  Besides  many  mink,  sev- 
eral fisher,  two  red  foxes  and  a  lynx,  they 
added  two  fine  "cross"  foxes  and  three  wolf 
scalps  to  their  treasure  during  the  next  three 
weeks.  Rod  began  to  think  occasionally  of  the 
joy  their  success  would  bring  to  the  little  home 
hundreds  of  miles  away,  where  he  knew  that 
the  mother  was  waiting  and  praying  for  him 
every  day  of  her  life;  and  there  were  times, 
198 


RODERICK   EXPLORES   THE   CHASM 

too,  when  he  found  himself  counting  the  days 
that  must  still  elapse  before  he  returned  to 
Minnetaki  and  the  Post. 

But  at  no  time  did  he  give  up  his  determina- 
tion to  explore  the  chasm.  From  the  first  Mu- 
koki  and  Wabigoon  had  regarded  this  project 
with  little  favor,  declaring  the  impossibility 
of  discovering  gold  under  snow,  even  though 
gold  was  there;  so  Rod  waited  and  watched 
for  an  opportunity  to  make  the  search  alone, 
saying  nothing  about  his  plans. 

On  a  beautiful  day  late  in  December,  when 
the  sun  rose  with  dazzling  brightness,  his  op- 
portunity came.  Wabi  was  to  remain  in  camp, 
and  Mukoki,  who  was  again  of  the  belief  that 
they  were  safe  from  the  Woongas,  was  to  fol- 
low one  of  the  trap-lines  alone.  Supplying 
himself  well  with  food,  taking  Wabi's  rifle,  a 
double  allowance  of  cartridges,  a  knife,  belt- 
ax,  and  a  heavy  blanket  in  his  pack,  Rod  set 
out  for  the  chasm.  Wabi  laughed  as  he  stood 
in  the  doorway  to  see  him  off. 

"Good  luck  to  you,  Rod;  hope  you  find 
199 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

gold,"  he  cried  gaily,  waving  a  final  good-by 
with  his  hand. 

"If  I  don't  return  to-night  don't  you  fellows 
worry  about  me,"  called  back  the  youth.  "If 
things  look  promising  I  may  camp  in  the 
chasm  and  take  up  the  hunt  again  in  the  morn- 
ing. " 

He  now  passed  quickly  to  the  second  ridge, 
knowing  from  previous  experience  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  make  a  descent  into  the 
gulch  from  the  first  mountain.  This  range,  a 
mile  south  of  the  camp,  had  not  been  explored 
by  the  hunters,  but  Rod  was  sure  that  there 
was  no  danger  of  losing  himself  as  long  as  he 
followed  along  the  edge  of  the  chasm  which 
was  in  itself  a  constant  and  infallible  guide. 
Much  to  his  disappointment  he  found  that  the 
southern  walls  of  this  mysterious  break  be- 
tween the  mountains  were  as  precipitous  as 
those  on  the  opposite  side,  and  for  two  hours 
he  looked  in  vain  for  a  place  where  he  might 
climb  down.  The  country  was  now  becoming 
densely  wooded  and  he  was  constantly  encoun- 
200 


RODERICK   EXPLORES   THE   CHASM 

tering  signs  of  big  game.  But  he  paid  little  at- 
tention to  these.  Finally  he  came  to  a  point 
where  the  forest  swept  over  and  down  the  steep 
side  of  the  mountain,  and  to  his  great  joy  he 
saw  that  by  strapping  his  snow-shoes  to  his  back 
and  making  good  use  of  his  hands  it  was  pos- 
sible for  him  to  make  a  descent. 

Fifteen  minutes  later,  breathless  but  tri- 
umphant, he  stood  at  the  bottom  of  the  chasm. 
On  his  right  rose  the  strip  of  cedar  forest;  on 
his  left  he  was  shut  in  by  towering  walls  of 
black  and  shattered  rock.  At  his  feet  was  the 
little  stream  which  had  played  such  an  import- 
ant part  in  his  golden  dreams,  frozen  in  places, 
and  in  others  kept  clear  of  ice  by  the  swiftness 
of  its  current.  A  little  ahead  of  him  was  that 
gloomy,  sunless  part  of  the  chasm  into  which 
he  had  peered  so  often  from  the  top  of  the 
ridge  on  the  north.  As  he  advanced  step  by 
step  into  its  mysterious  silence,  his  eyes  alert, 
his  nerves  stretched  to  a  tension  of  the  keenest 
expectancy,  there  crept  over  him  a  feeling  that 
he  was  invading  that  enchanted  territory 
201 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

which,  even  at  this  moment,  might  be  guarded 
by  the  spirits  of  the  two  mortals  who  had  died 
because  of  the  treasure  it  held. 

Narrower  and  narrower  became  the  walls 
high  over  his  head.  Not  a  ray  of  sunlight 
penetrated  into  the  soundless  gloom.  Not  a 
leaf  shivered  in  the  still  air.  The  creek  gur- 
gled and  spattered  among  its  rocks,  without 
the  note  of  a  bird  or  the  chirp  of  a  squirrel  to 
interrupt  its  monotony.  Everything  was  dead. 
Now  and  then  Rod  could  hear  the  wind  whis- 
pering over  the  top  of  the  chasm.  But  not  a 
breath  of  it  came  down  to  him.  Under  his  feet 
was  only  sufficient  snow  to  deaden  his  own 
footsteps,  and  he  still  carried  his  snow-shoes 
upon  his  back. 

Suddenly,  from  the  thick  gloom  that  hung 
under  one  of  the  cragged  walls,  there  came  a 
thundering,  unearthly  sound  that  made  him 
stop,  his  rifle  swung  half  to  shoulder.  He  saw 
that  he  had  disturbed  a  great  owl,  and  passed 
on.  Now  and  then  he  paused  beside  the  creek 
and  took  up  handful  after  handful  of  its  peb- 
202 


RODERICK   EXPLORES   THE   CHASM 

bles,  his  heart  beating  high  with  hope  at  every 
new  gleam  he  caught  among  them,  and  never 
sinking  to  disappointment  though  he  found  no 
gold.  The  gold  was  here — somewhere.  He 
was  as  certain  of  that  as  he  was  of  the  fact  that 
he  was  living,  and  searching  for  it.  Every- 
thing assured  him  of  that;  the  towering  masses 
of  cleft  rock,  whole  walls  seeming  about  to 
crumble  into  ruin,  the  broad  margins  of  peb- 
bles along  the  creek — everything,  to  the  very 
stillness  and  mystery  in  the  air,  spoke  this  as 
the  abode  of  the  skeletons'  secret. 

It  was  this  inexplicable  something — this  un- 
seen, mysterious  element  hovering  in  the  air 
that  caused  the  white  youth  to  advance  step  by 
step,  silently,  cautiously,  as  though  the  slight- 
est sound  under  his  feet  might  awaken  the 
deadliest  of  enemies.  And  it  was  because  of 
this  stealth  in  his  progress  that  he  came  very 
close  upon  something  that  was  living,  and 
without  startling  it.  Less  than  fifty  yards 
ahead  of  him  he  saw  an  object  moving  slowly 
among  the  rocks.  It  was  a  fox.  Even  before 
203 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

the  animal  had  detected  his  presence  he  had 
aimed  and  fired. 

Thunderous  echoes  rose  up  about  him. 
They  rolled  down  the  chasm,  volume  upon 
volume,  until  in  the  ghostly  gloom  between  the 
mountain  walls  he  stood  and  listened,  a  nerv- 
ous shiver  catching  him  once  or  twice.  Not 
until  the  last  echo  had  died  away  did  he  ap- 
proach where  the  fox  lay  upon  the  snow.  It 
was  not  red.  It  was  not  black.  It  was  not — 

His  heart  gave  a  big  excited  thump.  The 
bleeding  creature  at  his  feet  was  the  most  beau- 
tiful animal  he  had  ever  seen — and  the  tip  of 
its  thick  black  fur  was  silver  gray. 

Then,  in  that  lonely  chasm,  there  went  up  a 
great  human  whoop  of  joy. 

"A  silver  fox!" 

Rod  spoke  the  words  aloud.  For  five  min- 
utes he  stood  and  looked  upon  his  prize.  He 
held  it  up  and  stroked  it,  and  from  what  Wabi 
and  Mukoki  had  told  him  he  knew  that  the 
silken  pelt  of  this  creature  was  worth  more  to 
them  than  all  the  furs  at  the  camp  together. 
204 


RODERICK   EXPLORES   THE   CHASM 

He  made  no  effort  to  skin  it,  but  put  the 
animal  in  his  pack  and  resumed  his  slow, 
noiseless  exploration  of  the  gulch. 

He  had  now  passed  beyond  those  points  in 
the  range  from  which  he  had  looked  down  into 
this  narrow,  shut-in  world.  Ever  more  wild 
and  gloomy  became  the  chasm.  At  times  the 
two  walls  of  rock  seemed  almost  to  meet  far 
above  his  head;  under  gigantic,  overhanging 
crags  there  lurked  the  shadows  of  night.  Fas- 
cinated by  the  grandeur  and  loneliness  of  the 
scenes  through  which  he  was  passing  Rod 
forgot  the  travel  of  time.  Mile  after  mile  he 
continued  his  tireless  trail.  He  had  no  inclina- 
tion to  eat.  He  stopped  only  once  at  the  creek 
to  drink.  And  when  he  looked  at  his  watch  he 
was  astonished  to  find  that  it  was  three  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon. 

It  was  now  too  late  to  think  of  returning  to 
camp.  Within  an  hour  the  day  gloom  of  the 
chasm  would  be  thickening  into  that  of  night. 
So  Rod  stopped  at  the  first  good  camp  site, 
threw  off  his  pack,  and  proceeded  with  the 
20$ 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

building  of  a  cedar  shelter.  Not  until  this  was 
completed  and  a  sufficient  supply  of  wood  for 
the  night's  fire  was  at  hand  did  he  begin  get- 
ting supper.  He  had  brought  a  pail  with  him 
and  soon  the  appetizing  odors  of  boiling  coffee 
and  broiling  moose  sirloin  filled  the  air. 

Night  had   fallen  between  the  mountain 
walls  by  the  time  Rod  sat  down  to  his  meal. 


206 


CHAPTER  XT 
RODERICK'S  DREAM 

A  CHILLING  loneliness  now  crept 
over  the  young  adventurer.  Even  as 
he  ate  he  tried  to  peer  out  into  the 
mysterious  darkness.  A  sound  from  up  the 
chasm,  made  by  some  wild  prowler  of  the 
night,  sent  a  nervous  tremor  through  him.  He 
was  not  afraid ;  he  would  not  have  confessed  to 
that.  But  still,  the  absolute,  almost  gruesome 
silence  between  the  two  mountains,  the  mere 
knowledge  that  he  was  alone  in  a  place  where 
the  foot  of  man  had  not  trod  for  more  than 
half  a  century,  was  not  altogether  quieting  to 
his  nerves.  What  mysteries  might  not  these 
grim  walls  hold?  What  might  not  happen 
here,  where  everything  was  so  strange,  so 
weird,  and  so  different  from  the  wilderness 
world  just  over  the  range? 
207 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Rod  tried  to  laugh  away  his  nervousness,  but 
the  very  sound  of  his  own  voice  was  distress- 
ing. It  rose  in  unnatural  shivering  echoes — a 
low,  hollow  mockery  of  a  laugh  beating  itself 
against  the  walls;  a  ghost  of  a  laugh,  Rod 
thought,  and  that  very  thought  made  him 
hunch  closer  to  the  fire.  The  young  hunter 
was  not  superstitious,  or  at  least  he  was  not  un- 
naturally so;  but  what  man  or  boy  is  there  in 
this  whole  wide  world  of  ours  who  does  not, 
at  some  time,  inwardly  cringe  from  something 
in  the  air — something  that  does  not  exist  and 
never  did  exist,  but  which  holds  a  peculiar  and 
nameless  fear  for  the  soul  of  a  human  being? 

And  Rod,  as  he  piled  his  fire  high  with 
wood  and  shrank  in  the  warmth  of  his  cedar 
shelter,  felt  that  nameless  dread;  and  there 
came  to  him  no  thought  of  sleep,  no  feeling  of 
fatigue,  but  only  that  he  was  alone,  absolutely 
alone,  in  the  mystery  and  almost  unending  si- 
lence of  the  chasm.  Try  as  he  would  he  could 
not  keep  from  his  mind  the  vision  of  the  skele- 
tons as  he  had  first  seen  them  in  the  old  cabin. 
208 


RODERICK'S  DREAM 

Many,  many  years  ago,  even  before  his  own 
mother  was  born,  those  skeletons  had  trod  this 
very  chasm.  They  had  drunk  from  the  same 
creek  as  he,  they  had  clambered  over  the  same 
rocks,  they  had  camped  perhaps  where  he  was 
camping  now!  They,  too,  in  flesh  and  life,  had 
strained  their  ears  in  the  grim  silence,  they  had 
watched  the  flickering  light  of  their  camp-fire 
on  the  walls  of  rock — and  they  had  found 
gold! 

Just  now,  if  Rod  could  have  moved  himself 
by  magic,  he  would  have  been  safely  back  in 
camp.  He  listened.  From  far  back  over  the 
trail  he  had  followed  there  came  a  lonely, 
plaintive,  almost  pleading  cry. 

"'Ello— 'ello— 'ello!" 

It  sounded  like  a  distant  human  greeting, 
but  Rod  knew  that  it  was  the  awakening  night 
cry  of  what  Wabi  called  the  "man  owl."  It 
was  weirdly  human-like;  and  the  echoes  came 
softly,  and  more  softly,  until  ghostly  voices 
seemed  to  be  whispering  in  the  blackness  about 
him. 

209 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

"'Ello— 'ello— 'ello!" 

The  boy  shivered  and  laid  his  rifle  across 
his  knees.  There  was  tremendous  comfort  in 
the  rifle.  Rod  fondled  it  with  his  fingers,  and 
two  or  three  times  he  felt  as  though  he  would 
almost  like  to  talk  to  it.  Only  those  who  have 
gone  far  into  the  silence  and  desolation  of  the 
unblazed  wilderness  know  just  how  human  a 
good  rifle  becomes  to  its  owner.  It  is  a  friend 
every  hour  of  the  night  and  day,  faithful  to  its 
master's  desires,  keeping  starvation  at  bay  and 
holding  death  for  his  enemies;  a  guaranty  of 
safety  at  his  bedside  by  night,  a  sharp-fanged 
watch-dog  by  day,  never  treacherous  and  never 
found  wanting  by  the  one  who  bestows  upon 
it  the  care  of  a  comrade  and  friend.  Thus  had 
Rod  come  to  look  upon  his  rifle.  He  rubbed 
the  barrel  now  with  his  mittens;  he  polished 
the  stock  as  he  sat  in  his  loneliness,  and  long 
afterward,  though  he  had  determined  to  re- 
main awake  during  the  night,  he  fell  asleep 
with  it  clasped  tightly  in  his  hands. 

It  was  an  uneasy,  troubled  slumber  in  which 
210 


RODERICK'S   DREAM 

the  young  adventurer's  visions  and  fears  took 
a  more  realistic  form.  He  half  sat,  half  lay, 
upon  his  cedar  boughs ;  his  head  fell  forward 
upon  his  breast,  his  feet  were  stretched  out  to 
the  fire.  Now  and  then  unintelligible  sounds 
fell  from  his  lips,  and  he  would  start  suddenly 
as  if  about  to  awaken,  but  each  time  would  sink 
back  into  his  restless  sleep,  still  clutching  the 
gun. 

The  visions  in  his  head  began  to  take  a  more 
definite  form.  Once  more  he  was  on  the  trail, 
and  had  come  to  the  old  cabin.  But  this  time 
he  was  alone.  The  window  of  the  cabin  was 
wide  open,  but  the  door  was  tightly  closed, 
just  as  the  hunters  had  found  it  when  they 
first  came  down  into  the  dip.  He  approached 
cautiously.  When  very  near  the  window  he 
heard  sounds — strange  sounds — like  the  click- 
ing of  bones! 

Step  by  step  in  his  dream  he  approached  the 

window  and  looked  in.  And  there  he  beheld  a 

sight  that  froze  him  to  the  marrow.     Two 

huge  skeletons  were  struggling  in  deadly  em« 

211 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

brace.  He  could  hear  no  sound  but  the  click- 
click-click  of  their  bones.  He  saw  the  gleam 
of  knives  held  between  fleshless  fingers,  and  he 
saw  now  that  both  were  struggling  for  the  pos- 
session of  something  that  was  upon  the  table. 
Now  one  almost  reached  it,  now  the  other,  but 
neither  gained  possession. 

The  clicking  of  the  bones  became  louder, 
the  struggle  fiercer,  the  knives  of  the  skeleton 
combatants  rose  and  fell.  Then  one  staggered 
back  and  sank  in  a  heap  on  the  floor. 

For  a  moment  the  victor  swayed,  tottered  to 
the  table,  and  gripped  the  mysterious  object 
in  its  bony  fingers. 

As  it  stumbled  weakly  against  the  cabin 
wall  the  gruesome  creature  held  the  object  up, 
and  Rod  saw  that  it  was  a  roll  of  birch-bark! 

An  ember  in  the  dying  fire  snapped  with  a 
sound  like  the  report  of  a  small  pistol  and  Rod 
sat  bolt  upright,  awake,  staring,  trembling. 
What  a  horrible  dream!  He  drew  in  his 
cramped  legs  and  approached  the  fire  on  his 

212 


RODERICK'S   DREAM 

knees,  holding  his  rifle  in  one  hand  while  he 
piled  on  wood  with  the  other. 

What  a  horrible  dream! 

He  shuddered  and  ran  his  eyes  around  the 
impenetrable  wall  of  blackness  that  shut  him 
in,  the  thought  constantly  flashing  through  his 
mind,  what  a  horrible  dream — what  a  horrible 
dream! 

He  sat  down  again  and  watched  the  flames 
of  his  fire  as  they  climbed  higher  and  higher. 
The  light  and  the  heat  cheered  him,  and  after 
a  little  he  allowed  his  mind  to  dwell  upon  the 
adventure  of  his  slumber.  It  had  made  him 
sweat.  He  took  off  his  cap  and  found  that 
the  hair  about  his  forehead  was  damp. 

All  the  different  phases  of  a  dream  return 
to  one  singly  when  awake,  and  it  was  with  the 
suddenness  of  a  shot  that  there  came  to  Rod  a 
remembrance  of  the  skeleton  hand  held  aloft, 
clutching  between  its  gleaming  fleshless  fin- 
gers the  roll  of  birch-bark.  And  with  that 
memory  of  his  dream  there  came  another— 
213 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

the  skeleton  in  the  cabin  was  clutching  a  piece 
of  birch-bark  when  they  had  buried  it! 

Could  that  crumpled  bit  of  bark  hold  the 
secret  of  the  lost  mine? 

Was  it  for  the  possession  of  that  bark  in« 
stead  of  the  buckskin  bag  that  the  men  had 
fought  and  died? 

As  the  minutes  passed  Rod  forgot  his  lone- 
liness, forgot  his  nervousness  and  only  thought 
of  the  possibilities  of  the  new  clue  that  had 
come  to  him  in  a  dream.  Wabi  and  Mukoki 
had  seen  the  bark  clutched  in  the  skeleton 
fingers,  but  they  as  well  as  he  had  given  it  no 
special  significance,  believing  that  it  had  been 
caught  up  in  some  terrible  part  of  the  struggle 
when  both  combatants  were  upon  the  floor,  or 
perhaps  in  the  dying  agonies  of  the  wounded 
man  against  the  wall.  Rod  remembered  now 
that  they  had  found  no  more  birch-bark  upon 
the  floor,  which  they  would  have  done  if  a 
supply  had  been  kept  there  for  kindling  fires. 
Step  by  step  he  went  over  the  search  they  had 
made  in  the  old  cabin,  and  more  and  more  sat< 

214. 


RODERICK'S  DREAM 

i*fied  did  he  become  that  the  skeleton  hand 
held  something  of  importance  for  them. 

He  replenished  his  fire  and  waited  impa- 
tiently for  dawn.  At  four  o'clock,  before  day 
had  begun  to  dispel  the  gloom  of  night,  he 
cooked  his  breakfast  and  prepared  his  pack  for 
the  homeward  journey.  Soon  afterward  a  nar- 
row rim  of  light  broke  through  the  rift  in  the 
chasm.  Slowly  it  crept  downward,  until  the 
young  hunter  could  make  out  objects  near  him 
and  the  walls  of  the  mountains. 

Thick  shadows  still  defied  his  vision  when 
he  began  retracing  his  steps  over  the  trail  he 
had  made  the  day  before.  He  returned  with 
the  same  caution  that  he  had  used  in  his  ad- 
vance. Even  more  carefully,  if  possible,  did 
he  scrutinize  the  rocks  and  the  creek  ahead. 
He  had  already  found  life  in  the  chasm,  and 
he  might  find  more. 

The  full  light  of  day  came  quickly  now, 
and  with  it  the  youth's  progress  became  more 
rapid.  He  figured  that  if  he  lost  no  time  in 
further  investigation  of  the  creek  he  would 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

arrive  at  camp  by  noon,  and  they  would  dig 
up  the  skeleton  without  delay.  There  was 
little  snow  in  the  chasm,  in  spite  of  the  late- 
ness of  the  season,  and  if  the  roll  of  bark  held 
the  secret  of  the  lost  gold  it  would  be  possible 
for  them  to  locate  the  treasure  before  other 
snows  came  to  baffle  them. 

At  the  spot  where  he  had  killed  the  silver 
fox  Rod  paused  for  a  moment.  He  wondered 
if  foxes  ever  traveled  in  pairs,  and  regretted 
that  he  had  not  asked  Wabi  or  Mukoki  that 
question.  He  could  see  where  the  fox  had 
come  straight  from  the  black  wall  of  the 
mountain.  Curiosity  led  him  over  the  trail. 
He  had  not  followed  it  more  than  two  hun- 
dred yards  when  he  stopped  in  sudden  as- 
tonishment. Plainly  marked  in  the  snow  be- 
fore him  was  the  trail  of  a  pair  of  snow-shoes! 
Whoever  had  been  there  had  passed  since  he 
shot  the  fox,  for  the  imprints  of  the  animal's, 
feet  were  buried  under  those  of  the  snow- 
shoes. 

Who  was  the  other  person  in  the  chasm? 


RODERICK'S  DREAM 

Was  it  Wabi? 

Had  Mukoki  or  he  come  to  join  him?  Or—- 
He looked  again  at  the  snow-shoe  trail.  It 
was  a  peculiar  trail,  unlike  the  one  made  by 
his  own  shoes.  The  imprints  were  a  foot  longer 
than  his  own,  and  narrower.  Neither  Wabi 
nor  Mukoki  wore  shoes  that  would  make  that 
trail! 

At  this  point  the  strange  trail  had  turned 
and  disappeared  among  the  rocks  along  the 
wall  of  the  mountain,  and  it  occurred  to  Rod 
that  perhaps  the  stranger  had  not  discovered 
his  presence  in  the  chasm.  There  was  some 
consolation  in  this  thought,  but  it  was  doomed 
to  quick  disappointment.  Very  cautiously  the 
youth  advanced,  his  rifle  held  in  readiness  and 
his  eyes  searching  every  place  of  concealment 
ahead  of  him.  A  hundred  yards  farther  on 
the  stranger  had  stopped,  and  from  the  way 
in  which  the  snow  was  packed  Rod  knew  that 
he  had  stood  in  a  listening  and  watchful  atti- 
tude for  some  time.  From  this  point  the  trail 
took  another  turn  and  came  down  until,  from 
217 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

behind  a  huge  rock,  the  stranger  had  cautious- 
ly peered  out  upon  the  path  made  by  the  white 
youth. 

It  was  evident  that  he  was  extremely  anxious 
to  prevent  the  discovery  of  his  own  trail,  for 
now  the  mysterious  spy  threaded  his  way  be- 
hind rocks  until  he  had  again  come  to  the 
shelter  of  the  mountain  wall. 

Rod  was  perplexed.  He  realized  the  peril 
of  his  dilemma,  and  yet  he  knew  not  what 
course  to  take  to  evade  it.  He  had  little  doubt 
that  the  trail  was  made  by  one  of  the  treach- 
erous Woongas,  and  that  the  Indian  not  only 
knew  of  his  presence,  but  was  somewhere  in 
the  rocks  ahead  of  him,  perhaps  even  now 
waiting  behind  some  ambuscade  to  shoot  him. 
Should  he  follow  the  trail,  or  would  it  be 
safer  to  steal  along  among  the  rocks  of  the  op- 
posite wall  of  the  chasm? 

He  had  decided  upon  the  latter  course  when 
his  eyes  caught  a  narrow  horizontal  slit  cleav- 
ing the  face  of  the  mountain  on  his  left,  to- 
ward which  the  snow-shoe  tracks  seemed  to 
218 


RODERICK'S  DREAM 

lead.  With  his  rifle  ready  for  instant  use  the 
youth  slowly  approached  the  fissure,  and  was 
surprised  to  find  that  it  was  a  complete  break 
in  the  wall  of  rock,  not  more  than  four  feet 
wide,  and  continuing  on  a  steady  incline  to 
the  summit  of  the  ridge.  At  the  mouth  of  this 
fissure  his  mysterious  watcher  had  taken  off 
his  snow-shoes  and  Rod  could  see  where  he 
had  climbed  up  the  narrow  exit  from  the 
chasm. 

With  a  profound  sense  of  relief  the  young 
hunter  hurried  along  the  base  of  the  mountain, 
keeping  well  within  its  shelter  so  that  eyes 
that  might  be  spying  from  above  could  not  see 
his  movements.  He  now  felt  no  fear  of  dan- 
ger. The  stranger's  flight  up  the  cleft  in  the 
chasm  wall  and  his  careful  attempts  to  conceal 
his  trail  among  the  rocks  assured  Rod  that  he 
had  no  designs  upon  his  life.  His  chief  pur- 
pose had  seemed  to  be  to  keep  secret  his  own 
presence  in  the  gorge,  and  this  fact  in  itself 
added  to  the  mystification  of  the  white  youth. 
For  a  long  time  he  had  been  secretly  puzzled, 
219 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

and  had  evolved  certain  ideas  of  his  own 
because  of  the  movements  of  the  Woongas. 
Contrary  to  the  opinions  of  Mukoki  andWabi- 
goon,  he  believed  that  the  red  outlaws  were 
perfectly  conscious  of  their  presence  in  the 
dip.  From  the  first  their  actions  had  been  un- 
accountable, but  not  once  had  one  of  their 
snow-shoe  trails  crossed  their  trap-lines. 

Was  this  fact  in  itself  not  significant?  Rod 
was  of  a  contemplative  theoretical  turn  of 
mind,  one  of  those  wide-awake,  interesting 
young  fellows  who  find  food  for  conjecture 
in  almost  every  incident  that  occurs,  and  his 
suspicions  were  now  aroused  to  an  unusual 
pitch.  A  chief  fault,  however,  was  that  he 
kept  most  of  his  suspicions  to  himself,  for  he 
believed  that  Mukoki  and  Wabigoon,  born 
and  taught  in  the  life  of  the  wilderness,  were 
infallible  in  their  knowledge  of  the  ways  and 
the  laws  and  the  perils  of  the  world  they 
were  in. 


220 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  SECRET  OF  THE  SKELETON'S  HAND 

AITTLE  before  noon  Rod  arrived  at 
the  top  of  the  hill  from  which  he 
could  look  down  on  their  camp.  He 
was  filled  with  pleasurable  anticipation,  and 
with  an  unbounded  swelling  satisfaction  that 
caused  him  to  smile  as  he  proceeded  into 
the  dip.  He  had  found  a  fortune  in  the  mys- 
terious chasm.  The  burden  of  the  silver  fox 
upon  his  shoulders  was  a  most  pleasing  re- 
minder of  that,  and  he  pictured  the  moment 
when  the  good-natured  raillery  of  Mukoki 
and  Wabigoon  would  be  suddenly  turned  into 
astonishment  and  joy. 

As  he   approached  the  cabin  the  young 
hunter  tried  to  appear  disgusted  and  half  sick, 
and  his  effort  was  not  bad  in  spite  of  his  de- 
cided inclination  to  laugh.    Wabi  met  him  in 
221 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

the  doorway,  grinning  broadly,  and  Mukoki 
greeted  him  with  a  throatful  of  his  inimitable 
chuckles. 

"Aha,  here's  Rod  with  a  packful  of  gold!" 
cried  the  young  Indian,  striking  an  expectant 
attitude.  "Will  you  let  us  see  the  treasure?" 
In  spite  of  his  banter  there  was  gladness  in  his 
face  at  Rod's  arrival. 

The  youth  threw  off  his  pack  with  a  spirit- 
less effort  and  flopped  into  a  chair  as  though 
in  the  last  stage  of  exhaustion. 

"You'll  have  to  undo  the  pack,"  he  replied. 
"I'm  too  tired  and  hungry." 

Wabi's  manner  changed  at  once  to  one  of 
real  sympathy. 

"I'll  bet  you're  tired,  Rod,  and  half  starved 
We'll  have  dinner  in  a  hurry.  Ho,  Muky,  put 
on  the  steak,  will  you?" 

There  followed  a  rattle  of  kettles  and  tin 
pans  and  the  Indian  youth  gave  Rod  a  glad 
slap  on  the  back  as  he  hurried  to  the  table. 
He  was  evidently  in  high  spirits,  and  burs* 

222 


THE  SECRET 

into  a  snatch  of  song  as  he  cut  up  a  loaf  of 
bread. 

"I'm  tickled  to  see  you  back,"  he  admitted, 
"for  I  was  getting  a  little  bit  nervous.  We 
had  splendid  luck  on  our  lines  yesterday. 
Brought  in  another  'cross7  and  three  mink. 
Did  you  see  anything?" 

"Aren't  you  going  to  look  in  the  pack?" 

Wabi  turned  and  gazed  at  his  companion 
with  a  half-curious  hesitating  smile. 

"Anything  in  it?"  he  asked  suspiciously. 

"See  here,  boys,"  cried  Rod,  forgetting  him- 
self in  his  suppressed  enthusiasm.  "I  said  there 
was  a  treasure  in  that  chasm,  and  there  was.  I 
found  it.  You  are  welcome  to  look  into  that 
pack  if  you  wish!" 

Wabi  dropped  the  knife  with  which  he  was 
cutting  the  bread  and  went  to  the  pack.  He 
touched  it  with  the  toe  of  his  boot,  lifted  it  in 
his  hands,  and  glanced  at  Rod  again. 

"It  isn't  a  joke?"  he  asked. 

"No." 

223 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Rod  turned  his  back  upon  the  scene  and  be- 
gan to  take  off  his  coat  as  coolly  as  though  it 
were  the  commonest  thing  in  the  world  for 
him  to  bring  silver  foxes  into  camp.  Only 
when  Wabi  gave  a  suppressed  yell  did  he  turn 
about,  and  then  he  found  the  Indian  standing 
erect  and  holding  out  the  silver  to  the  aston- 
ished gaze  of  Mukoki. 

"Is  it  a  good  one?"  he  asked. 

"A  beauty!"  gasped  Wabi. 

Mukoki  had  taken  the  animal  and  was  ex. 
amining  it  with  the  critical  eyes  of  a  con- 
noisseur. 

"Ver'  fine!"  he  said.  "At  Post  heem  worth 
fi'  hundred  dollars — at  Montreal  t'ree  hun- 
dred more!" 

Wabi  strode  across  the  cabin  and  thrust  out 
his  hand. 

"Shake,  Rod!" 

As  the  two  gripped  hands  he  turned  to  Mu- 
koki. 

"Bear  witness,  Mukoki,  that  this  young  gen- 
tleman is  no  longer  a  tenderfoot.  He  has  shot 
224 


THE   SECRET 

a  silver  fox.  He  has  done  a  whole  winter's 
work  in  one  day.  I  take  off  my  hat  to  you,  Mr. 
Drew!" 

Roderick's  face  reddened  with  a  flush  of 
pleasure. 

"And  that  isn't  all,  Wabi,"  he  said.  His  eyes 
were  filled  with  a  sudden  intense  earnestness, 
and  in  the  strangeness  of  the  change  Wabi  for- 
got to  loosen  the  grip  of  his  ringers  about  his 
companion's  hand. 

"You  don't  mean  that  you  found — " 

"No,  I  didn't  find  gold,"  anticipated  Rod. 
"But  the  gold  is  there!  I  know  it.  And  I 
think  I  have  found  a  clue.  You  remember 
that  when  you  and  I  examined  the  skeleton 
against  the  wall  we  saw  that  it  clutched  some- 
thing that  looked  like  birch-bark  in  its  hand? 
Well,  I  believe  that  birch-bark  holds  the  key 
to  the  lost  mine !" 

Mukoki  had  come  beside  them  and  stood 
listening  to  Rod,  his  face  alive  with  keen  in- 
terest. In  Wabi's  eyes  there  was  a  look  half  of 


doubt,  half  of  belief. 


225 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

vlt  might,"  he  said  slowly.  "It  wouldn't 
do  any  harm  to  see." 

J-3e  stepped  to  the  stove  and  took  off  the 
partly  cooked  steak.  Rod  slipped  on  his  coat 
and  hjt  and  Mukoki  seized  his  belt-ax  and 
the  shovd.  No  words  were  spoken,  but  there 
was  a  rr^tttual  understanding  that  the  investi- 
gation w*6  to  precede  dinner.  Wabi  was  si- 
lent and  tivm^htful  and  Rod  could  see  that 
his  suggesticn  had  at  least  made  a  deep  im- 
pression upon  Mm.  Mukoki's  eyes  began  to 
gleam  again  w-ivh  the  old  fire  with  which  he 
had  searched  the  cabin  for  gold. 

The  skeletons  were  buried  only  a  few  inches 
deep  in  the  frozen  earth  in  the  edge  of  the 
cedar  forest,  and  Mukoki  soon  exposed  them 
to  view.  Almost  the  first  object  that  met  their 
eyes  was  the  skeleton  hand  clutching  its  roll 
of  birch-bark.  It  was  Rod  who  dropped  upon 
his  knees  to  the  gruesome  task. 

With  a  shudder  at  the  touch  of  the  cold 
bones  he  broke  the  fingers  back.  One  of  them 
snapped  with  a  sharp  sound,  and  as  he  rose 
226 


THE   SECRET 

with  the  bark  in  his  hand  his  face  was  blood- 
lessly  white.  The  bones  were  covered  again 
and  the  three  returned  to  the  cabin. 

Still  silent,  they  gathered  about  the  table. 
With  age  the  bark  of  the  birch  hardens  and 
rolls  itself  tightly,  and  the  piece  Rod  held  was 
almost  like  thin  steel.  Inch  by  inch  it  was 
spread  out,  cracking  and  snapping  in  brittle 
protest.  The  hunters  could  see  that  the  bark 
was  in  a  single  unbroken  strip  about  ten  inches 
long  by  six  in  width.  Two  inches,  three,  four 
were  unrolled — and  still  the  smooth  surface 
was  blank.  Another  half-inch,  and  the  bark 
refused  to  unroll  farther. 

"Careful!"  whispered  Wabi. 

With  the  point  of  his  knife  he  loosened  the 
cohesion. 

"I  guess — there's — nothing — "  began  Rod. 

Even  as  he  spoke  he  caught  his  breath.  A 
mark  had  appeared  on  the  bark,  a  black,  mean- 
ingless mark  with  a  line  running  down  from 
it  into  the  scroll. 

Another  fraction  of  an  inch  and  the  line 
227 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

was  joined  by  a  second,  and  then  with  an  un- 
expectedness that  was  startling  the  remainder 
of  the  roll  released  itself  like  a  spring — and 
to  the  eyes  of  the  three  wolf  hunters  was  re- 
vealed the  secret  of  the  skeleton  hand. 

Spread  out  before  them  was  a  map,  or  at 
least  what  they  at  once  accepted  as  a  map, 
though  in  reality  it  was  more  of  a  crude  dia- 
gram of  straight  and  crooked  lines,  with  here 
and  there  a  partly  obliterated  word  to  give  it 
meaning.  In  several  places  there  were  mere 
evidences  of  words,  now  entirely  illegible. 
But  what  first  held  the  attention  of  Rod  and 
his  companions  were  several  lines  in  writing 
under  the  rough  sketch  on  the  bark,  still  quite 
plain,  which  formed  the  names  of  three  men. 
Roderick  read  them  aloud. 
"John  Ball,  Henri  Langlois,  Peter  Plante." 
Through  the  name  of  John  Ball  had  been 
drawn  a  broad  black  line  which  had  almost 
destroyed  the  letters,  and  at  the  end  of  this 
line,  in  brackets,  was  printed  a  word  in  French 
which  Wabi  quickly  translated. 
228 


THE   SECRET 

"Dead!"  he  breathed.  "The  Frenchmen 
killed  him!" 

The  words  shot  from  him  in  hot  excite- 
ment. 

Rod  did  not  reply.  Slowly  he  drew  a  trem- 
bling finger  over  the  map.  The  first  word  he 
encountered  was  unintelligible.  Of  the  next  he 
could  only  make  out  one  letter,  which  gave 
him  no  clue.  Evidently  the  map  had  been 
made  with  a  different  and  less  durable  sub- 
stance than  that  with  which  the  names  had 
been  written.  He  followed  down  the  first 
straight  black  line,  and  where  this  formed  a 
junction  with  a  wider  crooked  line  were  two 
words  quite  distinct: 

"Second  waterfall." 

Half  an  inch  below  this  Rod  could  make 
out  the  letters  T,  D  and  L,  widely  scattered. 

"That's  the  third  waterfall,"  he  exclaimed 
eagerly. 

At  this  point  the  crude  lines  of  the  diagram 
stopped,  and  immediately  below,  between  the 
map  and  the  three  names,  it  was  evident  that 
229 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

there  had  been  considerable  writing.  But  not 
a  word  of  it  could  the  young  hunters  make  out. 
That  writing,  without  doubt,  had  given  the 
key  to  the  lost  gold.  Rod  looked  up,  his  face 
betraying  the  keenness  of  his  disappointment 
He  knew  that  under  his  hand  he  held  all  that 
was  left  of  the  secret  of  a  great  treasure.  But 
he  was  more  baffled  than  ever.  Somewhere 
in  this  vast  desolation  there  were  three  water- 
falls, and  somewhere  near  the  third  waterfall 
the  Englishman  and  the  two  Frenchmen  had 
found  their  gold.  That  was  all  he  knew.  He 
had  not  found  a  waterfall  in  the  chasm ;  they 
had  not  discovered  one  in  all  their  trapping 
and  hunting  excursions. 

Wabi  was  looking  down  into  his  face  in  si- 
lent thought.  Suddenly  he  reached  out  and 
seized  the  sheet  of  bark  and  examined  it  close- 
ly. As  he  looked  there  came  a  deeper  flush 
in  his  face,  his  eyes  brightened  and  he  gave 
a  cry  of  excitement. 

"By  George,  I  believe  we  can  peel  this!" 
he  cried.  "See  here,  Muky!"  He  thrust  the 
230 


THE  SECRET 

t»irch  under  the  old  Indian's  eyes.  Even  Mu- 
koki's  hands  were  trembling. 

"Birch-bark  is  made  up  of  a  good  many 
layers,  each  as  thin  as  the  thinnest  paper,"  he 
explained  to  Rod  as  Mukoki  continued  his; 
examination.  "If  we  can  peel  off  that  first 
layer,  and  then  hold  it  up  to  the  light,  we  shall 
be  able  to  see  the  impression  of  every  word 
that  was  ever  made  on  it — even  though  they 
were  written  a  hundred  years  ago  1" 

Mukoki  had  gone  to  the  door,  and  now  he 
turned,  grinning  exultantly. 

"She  peel!" 

He  showed  them  where  he  had  stripped 
back  a  corner  of  the  film-like  layer.  Then  he 
sat  down  in  the  light,  his  head  bent  over,  and 
for  many  minutes  he  worked  at  his  tedious 
task  while  Wabi  and  Rod  hung  back  in  sound- 
less suspense.  Half  an  hour  later  Mukoki, 
straightened  himself,  rose  to  his  feet  and  held1 
out  the  precious  film  to  Rod. 

As  tenderly  as  though  his  own  life  depended 
upon  its  care,  Rod  held  the  piece  of  birch, 
231 


THE    WOLF    HUNTERS 

now  a  silken,  almost  transparent  sheet,  be- 
tween himself  and  the  light.  A  cry  welled  up 
into  his  throat.  It  was  repeated  by  Wabi. 
And  then  there  was  silence — a  silence  broken 
only  by  their  bated  breaths  and  the  excited 
thumpings  of  their  hearts. 

As  though  they  had  been  written  but  yester- 
day, the  mysterious  words  on  the  map  were 
disclosed  to  their  eyes.  Where  Rod  had  made 
out  only  three  letters  there  were  now  plainly 
discernible  the  two  words  "third  waterfall," 
and  very  near  to  these  was  the  word  "cabin." 
Below  them  were  several  lines,  clearly  im- 
pressed in  the  birch  film.  Slowly,  his  voice 
trembling,  Rod  read  them  to  his  companions. 

"We,  John  Ball,  Henri  Langlois,  and  Peter 
Plante,  having  discovered  gold  at  this  fall,  do 
hereby  agree  to  joint  partnership  in  the  same, 
and  do  pledge  ourselves  to  forget  our  past  dif- 
ferences and  work  in  mutual  good  will  and 
honesty,  so  help  us  God.  Signed, 

"JOHN  BALL,    HENRI  LANGLOIS, 
PETER  PLANTE." 
232 


THE   SECRET 

At  the  very  top  of  the  map  the  impression  of 
several  other  words  caught  Rod's  eyes.  They 
were  more  indistinct  than  any  of  the  others, 
but  one  by  one  he  made  them  out.  A  hot  blur- 
ring film  seemed  to  fall  over  his  eyes  and  he 
felt  as  though  his  heart  had  suddenly  come  up 
into  his  throat.  Wabi's  breath  was  burning 
against  his  cheek,  and  it  was  Wabi  who  spoke 
the  words  aloud. 

"Cabin  and  head  of  chasm." 

Rod  went  back  to  the  table  and  sat  down, 
the  precious  bit  of  birch-bark  under  his  hand. 
Mukoki,  standing  mute,  had  listened  and 
heard,  and  was  as  if  stunned  by  their  discov- 
ery. But  now  his  mind  returned  to  the  moose 
steak,  and  he  placed  it  on  the  stove.  Wabi 
stood  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  after 
a  little  he  laughed  a  trembling,  happy  laugh. 

"Well,  Rod,  you've  found  your  mine.  You 
are  as  good  as  rich!" 

""You  mean  that  we  have  found  our  mine," 
corrected  the  white  youth.  "We  are  three,  and 
we  just  naturally  fill  the  places  of  John  Ball, 
233 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Henri  Langlois  and  Peter  Plante.    They  are 
all  dead.    The  gold  is  ours!" 

Wabi  had  taken  up  the  map. 

"I  can't  see  the  slightest  possibility  of  our 
not  finding  it,"  he  said.  "The  directions  are 
as  plain  as  day.  We  follow  the  chasm,  and 
somewhere  in  that  chasm  we  come  to  a  water- 
fall. A  little  beyond  this  the  creek  that  runs 
through  the  gorge  empties  into  a  larger  stream, 
and  we  follow  this  second  creek  or  river  until 
we  come  to  the  third  fall.  The  cabin  is  there, 
and  the  gold  can  not  be  far  away." 

He  had  carried  the  map  to  the  door  again, 
and  Rod  joined  him. 

"There  is  nothing  that  gives  us  an  idea  of 
distance  on  the  map,"  he  continued.  "How  far 
did  you  travel  down  the  chasm?" 

"Ten  miles,  at  least,"  replied  Rod. 

"And  you  discovered  no  fall?" 

"No." 

With  a  splinter  picked  up  from  the  floor 
Wabi  measured  the  distances  between  the  dif- 
ferent points  on  the  diagram. 
234 


THE   SECRET 

"There  is  no  doubt  but  what  this  map  was 
drawn  by  John  Ball,"  he  said  after  a  few  mo- 
ments of  silent  contemplation.  "Everything 
points  to  that  fact.  Notice  that  all  of  the  writ- 
ing is  in  one  hand,  except  the  signatures  of 
Langlois  and  Plante,  and  you  could  hardly 
decipher  the  letters  in  those  signatures  if  you 
did  not  already  know  their  names  from  this 
writing  below.  Ball  wrote  a  good  hand,  and 
from  the  construction  of  the  agreement  over 
the  signatures  he  was  a  man  of  pretty  fair  ed- 
ucation. Don't  you  think  so?  Well,  he  must 
have  drawn  this  map  with  some  idea  of  dis- 
tance in  his  mind.  Th?  second  fall  is  only  half 
as  far  from  the  first  fall  as  the  third  fall  is 
from  the  second,  which  seems  to  me  conclusive 
evidence  of  this.  If  he  had  not  had  distance 
in  mind  he  would  not  have  separated  the  falls 
in  this  way  on  the  map." 

"Then  if  we  can  find  the  first  fall  we  can 
figure  pretty  nearly  how  far  the  last  fall  is 
from  the  head  of  the  chasm,"  said  Rod. 

"Yes.  I  believe  the  distance  from  here  to 
235 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

the  first  fall  will  give  us  a  key  to  the  whole 
thing." 

Rod  had  produced  a  pencil  from  one  of  his 
pockets  and  was  figuring  on  the  smooth  side 
of  a  chip. 

"The  gold  is  a  long  way  from  here  at  the 
best,  Wabi.  I  explored  the  chasm  for  ten 
miles.  Say  that  we  find  the  first  fall  within 
fifteen  miles.  Then,  according  to  the  map,  the 
second  fall  would  be  about  twenty  miles  from 
the  first,  and  the  third  forty  miles  from  the  sec- 
ond. If  the  first  fall  is  within  fifteen  miles  of 
this  cabin  the  third  fall  is  at  least  seventy-five 
miles  away." 

Wabi  nodded. 

"But  we  may  not  find  the  first  fall  within 
that  distance,"  he  said.  "By  George — "  He 
stopped  and  looked  at  Rod  with  an  odd  look 
of  doubt  in  his  face.  "If  the  gold  is  seventy- 
five  or  a  hundred  miles  away,  why  were  those 
men  here,  and  with  only  a  handful  of  nuggets 
in  their  possession?  Is  it  possible  that  the 
236 


THE   SECRET 

gold  played  out — that  they  found  only  what 
was  in  the  buckskin  bag?" 

"If  that  were  so,  why  should  they  have 
fought  to  the  death  for  the  possession  of  the 
map?"  argued  Rod. 

Mukoki  was  turning  the  steak.  He  had  not 
spoken,  but  now  he  said : 

"Mebby  going  to  Post  for  supplies." 

"That's  exactly  what  they  were  doing!" 
shouted  the  Indian  youth.  "Muky,  you  have 
solved  the  whole  problem.  They  were  going 
for  supplies.  And  they  didn't  fight  for  the 
map — not  for  the  map  alone!" 

His  face  flushed  with  new  excitement. 

"Perhaps  I  am  wrong,  but  it  all  seems  clear 
to  me  now,"  he  continued.  "Ball  and  the  two 
Frenchmen  worked  their  find  until  they  ran 
out  of  supplies.  Wabinosh  House  is  over  a 
hundred  years  old,  and  fifty  years  ago  that 
was  the  nearest  point  where  they  could  get 
more.  In  some  way  it  fell  to  the  Frenchmen 
to  go.  They  had  probably  accumulated  a 
237 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

hoard  of  gold,  and  before  they  left  they  mur- 
dered Ball.  They  brought  with  them  only 
enough  gold  to  pay  for  their  supplies,  for  it 
was  their  purpose  not  to  arouse  the  suspicion 
of  any  adventurers  who  happened  to  be  at  the 
Post.  They  could  easily  have  explained  their 
possession  of  those  few  nuggets.  In  this  cabin 
either  Langlois  or  Plante  tried  to  kill  his  com- 
panion, and  thus  become  the  sole  possessor  of 
the  treasure,  and  the  fight,  fatal  to  both,  en- 
sued. I  may  be  wrong,  but — by  George,  I  be- 
lieve that  is  what  happened!" 

"And  that  they  buried  the  bulk  of  their 
gold  somewhere  back  near  the  third  fall?" 

"Yes ;  or  else  they  brought  the  gold  here  and 
buried  it  somewhere  near  this  very  cabin!" 

They  were  interrupted  by  Mukoki. 

"Dinner  ready!"  he  called. 


238 


CHAPTER  XIII 
SNOWED  IN 

UNTIL  the  present  moment  Rod  had 
forgotten  to  speak  of  the  mysterious 
man-trail  he  had  encountered  in  the 
chasm.  The  excitement  of  the  past  hour  had 
made  him  oblivious  to  all  other  things,  but 
now  as  they  ate  their  dinner  he  described  the 
strange  manceuvers  of  the  spying  Woonga.  He 
did  not,  however,  voice  those  fears  which  had 
come  to  him  in  the  gorge,  preferring  to  allow 
Mukoki  and  Wabigoon  to  draw  their  own  con- 
clusions. By  this  time  the  two  Indians  were 
satisfied  that  the  Woongas  were  not  contem- 
plating attack,  but  that  for  some  unaccount- 
able reason  they  were  as  anxious  to  evade  the 
hunters  as  the  hunters  were  to  evade  them. 
Everything  that  had  passed  seemed  to  give  evi- 
dence of  this.  The  outlaw  in  the  chasm,  for 
239 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

instance,  could  easily  have  waylaid  Rod;  a 
dozen  times  the  almost  defenseless  camp  could 
have  been  attacked,  and  there  were  innumer- 
able places  where  ambushes  might  have  been 
laid  for  them  along  the  trap-lines. 

So  Rod's  experience  with  the  Woonga  trail 
between  the  mountains  occasioned  little  un- 
easiness, and  instead  of  forming  a  scheme  for 
the  further  investigation  of  this  trail  on  the 
south,  plans  were  made  for  locating  the  first 
fall.  Mukoki  was  the  swiftest  and  most  tire- 
less traveler  on  snow-shoes,  and  it  was  he  who 
volunteered  to  make  the  first  search.  He  would 
leave  the  following  morning,  taking  with  him 
a  supply  of  food,  and  during  his  absence  Rod 
and  Wabigoon  would  attend  to  the  traps. 

"We  must  have  the  location  of  the  first  fall 
before  we  return  to  the  Post,"  declared  Wabi. 
"If  from  that  we  find  that  the  third  fall  is  not 
within  a  hundred  miles  of  our  present  camp 
it  will  be  impossible  for  us  to  go  in  search  of 
our  gold  during  this  trip.  In  that  event  we 
240 


SNOWED   IN 

shall  have  to  go  back  to  Wabinosh  House  and 
form  a  new  expedition,  with  fresh  supplies 
and  the  proper  kind  of  tools.  We  can  not  do 
anything  until  the  spring  freshets  are  over, 
anyway." 

"I  have  been  thinking  of  that,"  replied  Rod, 
his  eyes  softening.  "You  know  mother  is 
alone,  and — her — " 

"I  understand,"  interrupted  the  Indian  boy, 
laying  a  hand  fondly  across  his  companion's 
arm. 

" — her  funds  are  small,  you  know,"  Rod  fin- 
ished. "If  she  has  been  sick — or — anything 
like  that—" 

"Yes,  we've  got  to  get  back  with  our  furs," 
helped  Wabi,  a  tremor  of  tenderness  in  his 
own  voice.  "And  if  you  don't  mind,  Rod,  I 
might  take  a  little  run  down  to  Detroit  with 
you.  Do  you  suppose  she  would  care?" 

"Care!"  shouted  Rod,  bringing  his  free 
hand  down  upon  Wabi's  arm  with  a  force  that 
hurt.  "Care!  Why,  she  thinks  as  much  of 
241 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

you  as  she  doe*  of  me,  Wabi !    She'd  be  tickled 
to  death!    Do  you  mean  it?" 

Wabi's  bronzed  face  flushed  a  deeper  red  at 
his  friend's  enthusiasm. 

"I  won't  promise — for  sure,"  he  said.  "But 
I'd  like  to  see  her — almost  as  much  as  you,  I 
guess.  If  I  can,  I'll  go." 

Rod's  face  was  suffused  with  a  joyful  glow. 

"And  I'll  come  back  with  you  early  in  the 
summer  and  we'll  start  out  for  the  gold,"  he 
cried.  He  jumped  to  his  feet  and  slapped 
Mukoki  on  the  back  in  the  happy  turn  his 
mind  had  taken.  "Will  you  come,  too,  Mu- 
koki? I'll  give  you  the  biggest  'city  time'  you 
ever  had  in  your  life!" 

The  old  Indian  grinned  and  chuckled  and 
grunted,  but  did  not  reply  in  words.  Wabi 
laughed,  and  answered  for  him. 

"He  is  too  anxious  to  become  Minnetaki's 
slave  again,  Rod.  No,  Muky  won't  go,  I'll 
wager  that.  He  will  stay  at  the  Post  to  see 
that  she  doesn't  get  lost,  or  hurt,  or  stolen  by 
theWoongas.  Eh,  Mukoki?" 
242 


SNOWED   IN 

Mukoki  nodded,  grinning  good-humoredly. 
He  went  to  the  door,  opened  it  and  looked 
out. 

"Devil — she  snow!"  he  cried.  "She  snow 
like  twent'  t'ousand — like  devil !" 

This  was  the  strongest  English  in  the  old 
warrior's  vocabulary,  and  it  meant  something 
more  than  usual.  Wabi  and  Rod  quickly 
joined  him.  Never  in  his  life  had  the  city 
youth  seen  a  snow-storm  like  that  which  he 
now  gazed  out  into.  The  great  north  storm 
had  arrived — a  storm  which  comes  just  once 
each  year  in  the  endless  Arctic  desolation.  For 
days  and  weeks  the  Indians  had  expected  it 
and  wondered  at  its  lateness.  It  fell  softly, 
silently,  without  a  breath  of  air  to  stir  it;  a 
smothering,  voiceless  sea  of  white,  impene- 
trable to  human  vision,  so  thick  that  it  seemed 
as  though  it  might  stifle  one's  breath.  Rod 
held  out  the  palm  of  his  hand  and  in  an  in- 
stant it  was  covered  with  a  film  of  white.  He 
walked  out  into  it,  and  a  dozen  yards  away 
he  became  a  ghostly,  almost  invisible  shadow. 
243 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

When  he  came  back  a  minute  later  he  brought 
a  load  of  snow  into  the  cabin  with  him. 

All  that  afternoon  the  snow  fell  like  this, 
and  all  that  night  the  storm  continued.  When 
he  awoke  in  the  morning  Rod  heard  the  wind 
whistling  and  howling  through  the  trees  and 
around  the  ends  of  the  cabin.  He  rose  and 
built  the  fire  while  the  others  were  still  sleep- 
ing. He  attempted  to  open  the  door,  but  it 
was  blocked.  He  lowered  the  barricade  at  the 
window,  and  a  barrel  of  snow  tumbled  in  about 
his  feet.  He  could  see  no  sign  of  day,  and 
when  he  turned  he  saw  Wabi  sitting  up  in  his 
blankets,  laughing  silently  at  his  wonder  and 
consternation. 

"What  in  the  world — "  he  gasped. 

"We're  snowed  in,"  grinned  Wabi.  "Does 
the  stove  smoke?" 

"No,"  replied  Rod,  throwing  a  bewildered 
glance  at  the  roaring  fire.  "You  don't  mean 
to  say — " 

"Then  we  are  not  completely  buried,"  in- 
244 


SNOWED  IN 

terrupted  the  other.  "At  least  the  top  of  the 
chimney  is  sticking  out!" 

Mukoki  sat  up  and  stretched  himself. 

"She  blow,"  he  said,  as  a  tremendous  howl 
of  wind  swept  over  the  cabin.  "Bime-by  she 
blow  some  more!" 

Rod  shoveled  the  snow  into  a  corner  and  re- 
placed the  barricade  while  his  companions 
dressed. 

"This  means  a  week's  work  digging  ou* 
traps,"  declared  Wabi.  "And  only  Mukoki's 
Great  Spirit,  who  sends  all  blessings  to  this 
country,  knows  when  the  blizzard  is  going  to 
stop.  It  may  last  a  week.  There  is  no  chance 
of  finding  our  waterfall  in  this." 

"We  can  play  dominoes,"  suggested  Rod 
cheerfully.  "You  remember  we  haven't  fin- 
ished that  series  we  began  at  the  Post.  But 
you  don't  expect  me  to  believe  that  it  snowed 
enough  yesterday  afternoon  and  last  night  tc 
cover  this  cabin,  do  you?" 

"It  didn't  exactly  snow  enough  to  cover  it," 
245 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

explained  his  comrade.  "But  we're  covered 
for  all  of  that.  The  cabin  is  on  the  edge  of 
an  open,  and  of  course  the  snow  just  naturally 
drifts  around  us,  blown  there  by  the  wind.  If 
this  blizzard  keeps  up  we  shall  be  under  a 
small  mountain  by  night." 

''Won't  it — smother  us?"  faltered  Rod. 

Wabi  gave  a  joyous  whoop  of  merriment  at 
the  city-bred  youth's  half-expressed  fear  and 
a  volley  of  Mukoki's  chuckles  came  from 
where  he  was  slicing  moose-steak  on  the  table. 

"Snow  mighty  nice  thing  live  under,"  he 
asserted  with  emphasis. 

"If  you  were  under  a  mountain  of  snow  you 
could  live,  if  you  weren't  crushed  to  death," 
said  Wabi.  "Snow  is  filled  with  air.  Mukoki 
was  caught  under  a  snow-slide  once  and  was 
buried  under  thirty  feet  for  ten  hours.  He  had 
made  a  nest  about  as  big  as  a  barrel  and  was 
nice  and  comfortable  when  we  dug  him  out. 
We  won't  have  to  burn  much  wood  tc  keep 
warm  now." 

After  breakfast  the  boys  again  lowered  the 
246 


SNOWED   IN 

barricade  at  the  window  and  Wabi  began  to 
bring  small  avalanches  of  snow  down  into  the 
cabin  with  his  shovel.  At  the  third  or  fourth 
upward  thrust  a  huge  mass  plunged  through 
the  window,  burying  them  to  the  waist,  and 
when  they  looked  out  they  could  see  the  light 
of  day  and  the  whirling  blizzard  above  their 
heads. 

"it's  up  to  the  roof,"  gasped  Rod.  "Great 
Scott,  what  a  snow-storm  1" 

"Now  for  some  fun!"  cried  the  Indian 
youth.  "Come  on,  Rod,  if  you  want  to  be  in 
it." 

He  crawled  through  the  window  into  the 
cavity  he  had  made  in  the  drift,  and  Rod  fol- 
lowed. Wabi  waited,  a  mischievous  smile  on 
his  face,  and  no  sooner  had  his  companion 
joined  him  than  he  plunged  his  shovel  deep 
into  the  base  of  the  drift.  Half  a  dozen  quick 
thrusts  and  there  tumbled  down  upon  their 
heads  a  mass  of  light  snow  that  for  a  few  mo- 
ments completely  buried  them.  The  sudden- 
ness of  it  knocked  Rod  to  his  knees,  where  he 
247 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

floundered,  gasped  and  made  a  vain  effort  to 
yell.  Struggling  like  a  fish  he  first  kicked  his 
feet  free,  and  Wabi,  who  had  thrust  out  his 
head  and  shoulders,  shrieked  with  laughter  as 
he  saw  only  Rod's  boots  sticking  out  of  the 
snow. 

"You're  going  the  wrong  way,  Rod!"  he 
shouted.  "Wow — wow!" 

He  seized  his  companion's  legs  and  helped 
to  drag  him  out,  and  then  stood  shaking,  the 
tears  streaming  down  his  face,  and  continued 
to  laugh  until  he  leaned  back  in  the  drift,  half 
exhausted.  Rod  was  a  curious  and  ludicrous- 
looking  object.  His  eyes  were  wide  and  blink- 
ing; the  snow  was  in  his  ears,  his  mouth,  and 
in  his  floundering  he  had  packed  his  coat  col- 
lar full  of  it.  Slowly  he  recovered  from  his 
astonishment,  saw  Wabi  and  Mukoki  quiver- 
ing with  laughter,  grinned — and  then  joined 
them  in  their  merriment. 

It  was  not  difficult  now  for  the  boys  to  force 
their  way  dirough  the  drift  and  they  were  soo^ 


SNOWED   IN 

standing  waist-deep  in  the  snow  twenty  yards 
from  the  cabin. 

"The  snow  is  only  about  four  feet  deep  in. 
the  open,"  said  Wabi.  "But  look  at  that!" 

He  turned  and  gazed  at  the  cabin,  or  rather 
at  the  small  part  of  it  which  still  rose  trium- 
phant above  the  huge  drift  which  had  almost 
completely  buried  it.  Only  a  little  of  the 
roof,  with  the  smoking  chimney  rising  out  of 
it,  was  to  be  seen.  Rod  now  turned  in  all  di- 
rections to  survey  the  wild  scene  about  him. 
There  haa  come  a  brief  lull  in  the  blizzard, 
and  his  vision  extended  beyond  the  lake  and 
to  the  hilltop.  There  was  not  a  spot  of  black 
to  meet  his  eyes;  every  rock  was  hidden;  the 
trees  hung  silent  and  lifeless  under  their  heavy 
mantles  and  even  their  trunks  were  beaten 
white  with  the  clinging  volleys  of  the  storm. 
There  came  to  him  then  a  thought  of  the  wild 
things  in  this  seemingly  uninhabitable  desola- 
tion. How  could  they  live  in  this  endless  des- 
ert of  snow?  What  could  they  find  to  eat? 
249 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Where  could  they  find  water  to  drink?  He 
asked  Wabi  these  questions  after  they  had  re- 
turned to  the  cabin. 

"Just  now,  if  you  traveled  from  here  to  the 
end  of  this  storm  zone  you  wouldn't  find  a  liv- 
ing four-legged  creature,"  said  Wabigoon. 
"Every  moose  in  this  country,  every  deer  and 
caribou,  every  fox  and  wolf,  is  buried  in  the 
snow.  And  as  the  snow  falls  deeper  about 
them  the  warmer  and  more  comfortable  do 
they  become,  so  that  even  as  the  blizzard  in- 
creases in  fury  the  kind  Creator  makes  it 
easier  for  them  to  bear.  When  the  storm 
ceases  the  wilderness  will  awaken  into  life 
again.  The  moose  and  deer  and  caribou  will 
rise  from  their  snow-beds  and  begin  to  eat  the 
boughs  of  trees  and  saplings ;  a  crust  will  have 
formed  on  the  snow,  and  all  the  smaller  ani- 
mals, like  foxes,  lynx  and  wolves,  will  begin  to 
travel  again,  and  to  prey  upon  others  for  food. 
Until  they  find  running  water  again  snow  and 
ice  take  the  place  of  liquid  drink;  warm  cav- 
erns dug  in  the  snow  give  refuge  in  place  of 
250 


SNOWED   IN 

thick  swamp  moss  and  brush  and  leaves.  All 
the  big  animals,  like  moose,  deer  and  caribou, 
will  soon  make  'yards'  for  themselves  by 
trampling  down  large  areas  of  snow,  and  in 
these  yards  they  will  gather  in  big  herds,  eat- 
ing their  way  through  the  forests,  fighting  the 
wolves  and  waiting  for  spring.  Oh,  life  isn't 
altogether  bad  for  the  animals  in  a  deep  winter 
like  this!" 

Until  noon  the  hunters  were  busy  cleaning 
away  the  snow  from  the  cabin  door.  As  the 
day  advanced  the  blizzard  increased  in  its 
fury,  until,  with  the  approach  of  night,  it  be- 
came impossible  for  the  hunters  to  expose 
themselves  to  it.  For  three  days  the  storm 
continued  with  only  intermittent  lulls,  but 
with  the  dawn  of  the  fourth  day  the  sky  was 
again  cloudless,  and  the  sun  rose  with  a  blind- 
ing effulgence.  Rod  now  found  himself  suf- 
fering from  that  sure  affliction  of  every  tender- 
foot in  the  far  North — snow-blindness.  For 
only  a  few  minutes  at  a  time  could  he  stand 
the  dazzling  reflections  of  the  snow-waste 
251 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

where  nothing  but  white,  flashing,  scintillating 
white,  seemingly  a  vast  sea  of  burning  electric 
points  in  the  sunlight,  met  his  aching  eyes.  On 
the  second  day  after  the  storm,  while  Wabi 
was  still  inuring  Rod  to  the  changed  world 
and  teaching  him  how  to  accustom  his  eyes  to 
it  gradually,  Mukoki  left  the  cabin  to  follow 
the  chasm  in  his  search  for  the  first  waterfall. 
That  same  day  Wabi  began  his  work  of  dig- 
ging out  and  resetting  the  traps,  but  it  was 
not  until  the  day  following  that  Rod's  eyes 
would  allow  him  to  assist.  The  task  was  a 
most  difficult  one;  rocks  and  other  landmarks 
were  completely  hidden,  and  the  lost  traps  av- 
eraged one  out  of  four.  It  was  not  until  the 
end  of  the  second  day  after  Mukoki's  depar- 
ture that  the  young  hunters  finished  the  moun- 
tain trap-line,  and  when  they  turned  their 
faces  toward  camp  just  at  the  beginning  of 
dusk  it  was  with  the  expectant  hope  that  they 
would  find  the  old  Indian  awaiting  them.  But 
Mukoki  had  not  returned.  The  next  day  came 
and  passed,  and  a  fourth  dawned  without  his 
252 


SNOWED  IN 

ars-ival.  Hope  now  gave  way  to  fear.  In 
thiee  days  Mukoki  could  travel  nearly  a  hun- 
dred miles.  Was  it  possible  that  something 
had  happened  to  him?  Many  times  there  re- 
curred to  Rod  a  thought  of  the  Woonga  in  the 
chasm.  Had  the  mysterious  spy,  or  some  of 
his  people,  waylaid  and  killed  him? 

Neither  of  the  hunters  had  a  desire  to  leave 
camp  during  the  fourth  day.  Trapping  was 
exceptionally  good  now  on  account  of  the 
scarcity  of  animal  food  and  since  the  big  storm 
they  had  captured  a  wolf,  two  lynx,  a  red  fox 
and  eight  mink.  But  as  Mukoki's  absence 
lengthened  their  enthusiasm  grew  less. 

In  the  afternoon,  as  they  were  watching, 
they  saw  a  figure  climb  wearily  to  the  summit 
of  the  hill. 

It  was  Mukoki. 

With  shouts  of  greeting  both  youths  hur- 
ried through  the  snow  toward  him,  not  taking 
time  to  strap  on  their  snow-shoes.  The  old  In- 
dian was  at  their  side  a  couple  of  minutes  lat- 
er. He  smiled  in  a  tired  good-natured  way, 
253 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

and  answered  the  eagerness  in  their  eyes  with 
a  nod  of  his  head. 

"Found  fall.    Fift'  mile  down  mountain." 

Once  in  the  cabin  he  dropped  into  a  chair, 
exhausted,  and  both  Rod  and  Wabigoon  joined 
in  relieving  him  of  his  boots  and  outer  gar- 
ments. It  was  evident  that  Mukoki  had  been 
traveling  hard,  for  only  once  or  twice  before 
in  his  life  had  Wabi  seen  him  so  completely 
fatigued.  Quickly  the  young  Indian  had  a 
huge  steak  broiling  over  the  fire,  and  Rod  put 
an  extra  handful  of  coffee  in  the  pot. 

"Fifty  miles!"  ejaculated  Wabi  for  the  twen- 
tieth time.  "It  was  an  awful  jaunt,  wasn't  it, 
Muky?" 

"Rough — rough  like  devil  through  moun- 
tains," replied  Mukoki.  "Not  like  that!"  He 
swung  an  arm  in  the  direction  of  the  chasm. 

Rod  stood  silent,  open-eyed  with  wonder. 
Was  it  possible  that  the  old  warrior  had  dis- 
covered a  wilder  country  than  that  through 
which  he  had  passed  in  the  chasm? 

"She  little  fall,"  went  on  Mukoki,  brighten- 
254 


SNOWED   IN 

ing  as  the  odor  of  coffee  and  meat  filled  his 
nostrils.  "No  bigger  than — that!"  He  point- 
ed to  the  roof  of  the  cabin. 

Rod  was  figuring  on  the  table.  Soon  he 
looked  up. 

"According  to  Mukoki  and  the  map  we  are 
at  least  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  the 
third  fall,"  he  said. 

Mukoki  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  his  face 
was  crinkled  in  a  suggestive  grimace. 

"Hudson  Bay,"  he  grunted. 

Wabi  turned  from  his  steak  in  sudden  as- 
tonishment. 

"Doesn't  the  chasm  continue  east?"  he  al- 
most shouted. 

"No.    She  turn — straight  north." 

Rod  could  not  understand  the  change  that 
came  over  Wabi's  face. 

"Boys,"  he  said  finally,  "if  that  is  the  case 
I  can  tell  you  where  the  gold  is.  If  the  stream 
in  the  chasm  turns  northward  it  is  bound  for 
just  one  place — the  Albany  River,  and  the  Al- 
bany River  empties  into  James  Bay!  The 
255 


THE   WOLF   HUNTLRS 

third  waterfall,  where  our  treasure  in  gold  is 
waiting  for  us,  is  in  the  very  heart  of  the  wild- 
est and  most  savage  wilderness  in  North  Amer- 
ica. It  is  safe.  No  other  man  has  ever  found 
it.  But  to  get  it  means  one  of  the  longest  and 
most  adventurous  expeditions  we  ever  planned 
in  all  our  lives !" 

"Hurrah!"  shouted  Rod.    "Hurrah—" 

He  had  leaped  to  his  feet,  forgetful  of  ev- 
erything but  that  their  gold  was  safe,  and  that 
their  search  for  it  would  lead  them  even  to 
the  last  fastnesses  of  the  snow-bound  and  ro- 
mantic North. 

"Next  spring,  Wabi !"  He  held  out  his  hand 
and  the  two  boys  joined  their  pledge  in  a 
hearty  grip. 

"Next  spring!"  reiterated  Wabi. 

"And  we  go  in  canoe,"  joined  Mukoki. 
"Creek  grow  bigger.  We  make  birch-bark 
canoe  at  first  fall." 

"That  is  better  still,"  added  Wabi.  "It  will 
be  a  glorious  trip  I  We'll  take  a  little  vacation 
at  the  third  fall  and  run  up  to  James  Bay." 
256 


SNOWED   IN 


"James  Bay  is  practically  the  same  as  Hud- 
son Bay,  isn't  it?"  asked  Rod. 

"Yes.  I  could  never  see  a  good  reason  for 
falling  it  James  Bay.  It  is  in  reality  the  lowgr 
end,  or  tail,  of  Hudson  Bay." 

There  was  no  thought  of  visiting  any  of  the 
traps  that  day,  and  the  next  morning  Mukoki 
insisted  upon  going  with  Rod,  in  spite  of  his 
four  days  of  hard  travel.  If  he  remained  in 
camp  his  joints  would  get  stiff,  he  said,  and 
Wabigoon  thought  he  was  right.  This  left 
the  young  Indian  to  care  for  the  trap-line  lead- 
ing into  the  north. 

Two  weeks  of  ideal  trapping  weather  now 
followed.  It  had  been  more  than  two  months 
since  the  hunters  had  left  Wabinosh  House, 
and  Rod  now  began  to  count  the  days  before 
they  would  turn  back  over  the  homeward  trail. 
Wabi  had  estimated  that  they  had  sixteen  hun- 
dred dollars'  worth  of  furs  and  scalps  and  two 
hundred  dollars  in  gold,  and  the  white  youth 
was  satisfied  to  return  to  his  mother  with  his 
share  of  six  hundred  dollars,  which  was  as 
257 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

much  as  he  would  have  earned  in  a  year  at  his 
old  position  in  the  city.  Neither  did  he  at- 
tempt to  conceal  from  Wabi  his  desire  to  see 
Minnetaki ;  and  his  Indian  friend,  thoroughly 
pleased  at  Rod's  liking  for  his  sister,  took 
much  pleasure  in  frequent  good-natured  ban- 
ter on  the  subject.  In  fact,  Rod  possessed  a 
secret  hope  that  he  might  induce  the  princess 
mother  to  allow  her  daughter  to  accompany 
himself  and  Wabi  to  Detroit,  where  he  knew 
that  his  own  mother  would  immediately  fall 
in  love  with  the  beautiful  little  maiden  from 
the  North. 

In  the  third  week  after  the  great  storm  Rod 
and  Mukoki  had  gone  over  the  mountain  trap- 
line,  leaving  Wabi  in  camp.  They  had  de- 
cided that  the  following  week  would  see  them 
headed  for  Wabinosh  House,  where  they 
would  arrive  about  the  first  of  February,  and 
Roderick  was  in  high  spirits. 

On  this  day  they  had  started  toward  camp 
early  in  the  afternoon,  and  soon  after  they  had 
passed  through  the  swamp  Rod  expressed  his 
258 


SNOWED   IN 

intention  of  ascending  the  ridge,  hoping  to 
get  a  shot  at  game  somewhere  along  the  moun- 
tain trail  home.  Mukoki,  however,  decided 
not  to  accompany  him,  but  to  take  the  nearer 
and  easier  route. 

On  the  top  of  the  mountain  Rod  paused  to 
take  a  survey  of  the  country  about  him.  He 
could  see  Mukoki,  now  hardly  more  than  a 
moving  speck  on  the  edge  of  the  plain;  north- 
ward the  same  fascinating,  never-ending  wil- 
derness rolled  away  under  his  eyes ;  eastward, 
two  miles  away,  he  saw  a  moving  object  which 
he  knew  was  a  moose  or  a  caribou ;  and  west- 
ward— 

Instinctively  his  eyes  sought  the  location  of 
their  camp.  Instantly  the  expectant  light 
went  out  of  his  face.  He  gave  an  involuntary 
cry  of  horror,  and  there  followed  it  a  single, 
unheard  shriek  for  Mukoki. 

Over  the  spot  where  he  knew  their  camp  to 
be  now  rose  a  huge  volume  of  smoke.  The 
sky  was  black  with  it,  and  in  the  terrible  mo- 
ment that  followed  his  piercing  cry  for  Mu- 
259 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

koki  he  fancied  that  he  heard  the  sound  of 
rifle-shots. 

"Mukoki!    Mukoki!"  he  shouted. 

The  old  Indian  was  beyond  hearing.  Quick- 
ly it  occurred  to  Rod  that  early  in  their  trip 
they  had  arranged  rifle  signals  for  calling  help 
— two  quick  shots,  and  then,  after  a  moment's 
interval,  three  others  in  rapid  succession. 

He  threw  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder  and  fired 
into  the  air ;  once,  twice — and  then  three  times 
as  fast  as  he  could  press  the  trigger. 

As  he  watched  Mukoki  he  reloaded.  He 
saw  the  Indian  pause,  turn  about  and  look 
back  toward  the  mountain. 

Again  the  thrilling  signals  for  help  went 
echoing  over  the  plains.  In  a  few  seconds  the 
sounds  had  reached  Mukoki's  ears  and  the  old 
warrior  came  swinging  back  at  running  speed. 

Rod  darted  along  the  ridge  to  meet  him,  fir- 
ing a  single  shot  now  and  then  to  let  him  know 
where  he  was,  and  in  fifteen  minutes  Mukoki 
came  panting  up  the  mountain. 

"The  Woongas!"  shouted  Rod.  "They've 
260 


SNOWED   IN 

attacked  the  camp!  See!"  He  pointed  to  the 
cloud  of  smoke.  "I  heard  shots — I  heard 
shots—" 

For  an  instant  the  grim  pathfinder  gazed 
in  the  direction  of  the  burning  camp,  and  then 
without  a  word  he  started  at  terrific  speed 
down  the  mountain. 

The  half-hour  race  that  followed  was  one 
of  the  most  exciting  experiences  of  Rod's  life. 
How  he  kept  up  with  Mukoki  was  more  than 
he  ever  could  explain  afterward.  But  from 
the  time  they  struck  the  old  trail  he  was  close 
at  the  Indian's  heels.  When  they  reached  the 
hill  that  sheltered  the  dip  his  face  was 
scratched  and  bleeding  from  contact  with 
swinging  bushes;  his  heart  seemed  ready  to 
burst  from  its  tremendous  exertion ;  his  breath 
came  in  an  audible  hissing,  rattling  sound,  and 
he  could  not  speak.  But  up  the  hill  he  plunged 
behind  Mukoki.  his  rifle  cocked  and  rea-dy. 
At  the  top  they  paused. 

The  camp  was  a  smoldering  mass  of  ruins. 
Not  a  sign  of  life  was  about  it. 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

But— 

With  a  gasping,  wordless  cry  Rod  caught 
Mukoki's  arm  and  pointed  to  an  object  lying 
in  the  snow  a  dozen  yards  from  where  the 
cabin  had  been.  The  warrior  had  seen  it.  He 
turned  one  look  upon  the  white  youth,  and  it 
was  a  look  that  Rod  had  never  thought  could 
come  into  the  face  of  a  human  being.  If  that 
was  Wabi  down  there — if  Wabi  had  been 
killed — what  would  Mukoki's  vengeance  be! 
His  companion  was  no  longer  Mukoki — as  he 
had  known  him;  he  was  the  savage.  There 
was  no  mercy,  no  human  instinct,  no  sugges- 
tion of  the  human  soul  in  that  one  terrible 
look.  If  it  was  Wabi — 

They  plunged  down  the  hill,  into  the  dip, 
across  the  lake,  and  Mukoki  was  on  his  knees 
beside  the  figure  in  the  snow.  He  turned  it 
over — and  rose  without  a  sound,  his  battle- 
glaring  eyes  peering  into  the  smoking  ruins. 

Rod  looked,  and  shuddered. 

The  figure  in  the  snow  was  not  Wabi. 

It  was  a  strange,  terrible-looking  object — a 
262 


SNOWED  IN 

giant  Indian,  distorted  in  death — and  a  half  of 
his  head  was  shot  away! 

When  he  again  looked  at  Mukoki  the  old 
Indian  was  in  the  midst  of  the  hot  ruins,  kick- 
ing about  with  his  booted  feet  and  poking  with 
the  butt  of  his  rifle. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  RESCUE  OF  WABIGOON 

ROD  had  sunk  into  the  snow  close  to  tl  £ 
dead  man.   His  endurance  was  gore 
and  he  was  as  weak  as  a  child.   He 
watched  every  movement  Mukoki  made ;  saw 
every  start,  every  glance,  and  became  almost 
sick  with  fear  whenever  the  warrior  bent  down 
to  examine  some  object. 

Was   Wabi    dead — and   burned    in    those 
ruins? 

Foot  by  foot  Mukoki  searched.  His  feet 
became  hot;  the  smell  of  burning  leather  filled 
his  nostrils;  glowing  coals  burned  through  to 
his  feet.  But  the  old  Indian  was  beyond  pain. 
Only  two  things  rilled  his  soul.  One  of  these 
was  love  for  Minnetaki ;  the  other  was  love  for 
Wabigoon.  And  there  was  only  one  other 
thing  that  could  take  the  place  of  these,  and 
264 


THE  RESCUE   OF   WABIGOON 

that  was  merciless,  undying,  savage  passion — 
passion  at  any  wrong  or  injury  that  might  be 
done  to  them.  The  Woongas  had  sneaked 
upon  Wabi.  He  knew  that.  They  had  caught 
him  unaware,  like  cowards;  and  perhaps  he 
was  dead — and  in  those  ruins ! 

He  searched  until  his  feet  were  scorched 
and  burned  in  a  score  of  places,  and  then  he 
came  out,  smoke-blackened,  but  with  some  of 
the  terrible  look  gone  out  of  his  face. 

"He  no  there!"  he  said,  speaking  for  the  first 
time. 

Again  he  crouched  beside  the  dead  man,  and 
grimaced  at  Rod  with  a  triumphant,  gloating 
chuckle. 

"Much  dead!"  he  grinned. 

In  a  moment  the  grimace  had  gone  from  his 
face,  and  while  Rod  still  rested  he  continued 
his  examination  of  the  camp.  Close  around  it 
the  snow  was  beaten  down  with  human  tracks. 
Mukoki  saw  where  the  outlaws  had  stolen  up 
behind  the  cabin  from  the  forest  and  he  saw 
where  they  had  gone  away  after  the  attack. 
265 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Five  had  come  down  from  the  cedars,  only 
four  had  gone  away! 

Where  was  Wabi? 

If  he  had  been  captured,  and  taken  with  the 
Indians,  there  would  have  been  five  trails. 
Rod  understood  this  as  well  as  Mukoki,  and 
he  also  understood  why  his  companion  went 
back  to  make  another  investigation  of  the 
smoldering  ruins.  This  second  search,  how- 
ever, convinced  the  Indian  that  Wabi's  body 
had  not  been  thrown  into  the  fire.  There  was 
only  one  conclusion  to  draw.  The  youth  had 
made  a  desperate  fight,  had  killed  one  of  the 
outlaws,  and  after  being  wounded  in  the  con- 
flict had  been  carried  off  bodily.  Wabi  and  his 
captors  could  not  be  more  than  two  or  three 
miles  away.  A  quick  pursuit  would  probably 
overtake  them  within  an  hour. 

Mukoki  came  to  Rod's  side. 

"Me  follow— kill!"  he  said.  "Me  kill  so 
many  quick!"  He  pointed  toward  the  four 
trails.  "You  stay — " 

Rod  clambered  to  his  feet. 
266 


THE   RESCUE   OF   WABIGOON 

"You  mean  we'll  kill  'em,  Muky,"  he  broke 
in.  "I  can  follow  you  again.  Set  the  pace!" 

There  came  the  click  of  the  safety  on  Mu- 
koki's  rifle,  and  Rod,  following  suit,  cocked 
his  own. 

"Much  quiet,"  whispered  the  Indian  when 
they  had  come  to  the  farther  side  of  the  dip. 
"No  noise — come  up  still — shoot!" 

The  snow-shoe  trail  of  the  outlaws  turned 
from  the  dip  into  the  timbered  bottoms  to  the 
north,  and  Mukoki,  partly  crouched,  his  rifle 
always  to  the  front,  followed  swiftly.  They 
,iad  not  progressed  a  hundred  yards  into  the 
plain  when  the  old  hunter  stopped,  a  puzzled 
look  in  his  face.  He  pointed  to  one  of  the 
snow-shoe  trails  which  was  much  deeper  than 
the  others. 

"Heem  carry  Wabi,"  he  spoke  softly. 
"But — "  His  eyes  gleamed  in  sudden  excite- 
ment. "They  go  slow!  They  no  hurry!  Walk 
very  slow!  Take  much  time!" 

Rod  now  observed  for  the  first  time  that  the 
individual  tracks  made  by  the  outlaws  were 
267 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

much  shorter  than  their  own,  showing  that  in- 
stead of  being  in  haste  they  were  traveling 
quite  slowly.  This  was  a  mystery  which  was 
not  easy  to  explain.  Did  the  Woongas  not  fear 
pursuit?  Was  it  possible  that  they  believed  the 
hunters  would  not  hasten  to  give  them  battle? 
Or  were  they  relying  upon  the  strength  of 
their  numbers,  or,  perhaps,  planning  some 
kind  of  ambush? 

Mukoki's  advance  now  became  slower  and 
more  cautious.  His  keen  eyes  took  in  every 
tree  and  clump  of  bushes  ahead.  Only  when 
he  could  see  the  trail  leading  straight  away  for 
a  considerable  distance  did  he  hasten  the  pur- 
suit. Never  for  an  instant  did  he  turn  his  head 
to  Rod.  But  suddenly  he  caught  sight  of  some- 
thing that  brought  from  him  a  guttural  sound 
of  astonishment.  A  fifth  track  had  joined  the 
trail !  Without  questioning  Rod  knew  what  it 
meant.  Wabi  had  been  lowered  from  the  back 
of  his  captor  and  was  now  walking.  He  was 
on  snow-shoes  and  his  strides  were  quite  even 
268 


THE   RESCUE   OF   WABIGOON 

and  of  equal  length  with  the  others.  Evidently 
he  was  not  badly  wounded. 

Half  a  mile  ahead  of  them  was  a  high  hill 
and  between  them  and  this  hill  was  a  dense 
growth  of  cedar,  filled  with  tangled  windfalls. 
It  was  an  ideal  place  for  an  ambush,  but  the 
old  warrior  did  not  hesitate.  The  Woongas 
had  followed  a  moose  trail,  with  which  they 
were  apparently  well  acquainted,  and  in  this 
traveling  was  easy.  But  Rod  gave  an  involun- 
tary shudder  as  he  gazed  ahead  into  the 
chaotic  tangle  through  which  it  led.  At  any 
moment  he  expected  to  hear  the  sharp  crack  of 
a  rifle  and  to  see  Mukoki  tumble  forward  upon 
his  face.  Or  there  might  be  a  fusillade  of  shots 
and  he  himself  might  feel  the  burning  sting 
that  comes  with  rifle  death.  At  the  distance 
from  which  they  would  shoot  the  outlaws 
could  not  miss.  Did  not  Mukoki  realize  this? 
Maddened  by  the  thought  that  his  beloved 
Wabi  was  in  the  hands  of  merciless  enemies, 
was  the  old  pathfinder  becoming  reckless? 
269 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

But  when  he  looked  into  his  companion's 
face  and  saw  the  cool  deadly  resolution  glitter- 
ing in  his  eyes,  the  youth's  confidence  was  re- 
stored. For  some  reason  Mukoki  knew  that 
there  would  not  be  an  ambush. 

Over  the  moose-run  the  two  traveled  more 
swiftly  and  soon  they  came  to  the  foot  of  the 
high  hill.  Up  this  the  Woongas  had  gone, 
their  trail  clearly  defined  and  unswerving  in 
its  direction.  Mukoki  now  paused  with  a 
warning  gesture  to  Rod,  and  pointed  down  at 
one  of  the  snow-shoe  tracks.  The  snow  was 
still  crumbling  and  falling  about  the  edges  of 
this  imprint. 

"Ver'  close!"  whispered  the  Indian. 

It  was  not  the  light  of  the  game  hunt  in  Mu- 
koki's  eyes  now;  there  was  a  trembling,  ter- 
rible tenseness  in  his  whispered  words.  He 
crept  up  the  hill  with  Rod  so  near  that  he 
could  have  touched  him.  At  the  summit  of 
that  hill  he  dragged  himself  up  like  an  ani- 
mal, and  then,  crouching,  ran  swiftly  to  the 
opposite  side,  his  rifle  within  six  inches  of  his 
270 


THE   RESCUE   OF   WABIGOON 

shoulder.  In  the  plain  below  them  was  un- 
folded to  their  eyes  a  scene  which,  despite  his 
companion's  warning,  wrung  an  exclamation 
of  dismay  from  Roderick's  lips. 

Plainly  visible  to  them  in  the  edge  of  the 
plain  were  the  outlaw  Woongas  and  their  cap- 
tive. They  were  in  single  file,  with  Wabi  fol- 
lowing the  leader,  and  the  hunters  perceived 
that  their  comrade's  arms  were  tied  behind 
him. 

But  it  was  another  sight  that  caused  Rod's 
dismay. 

From  an  opening  beside  a  small  lake  half  a 
mile  beyond  the  Indians  below  there  rose  the 
smoke  of  two  camp-fires,  and  Mukoki  and  he 
could  make  out  at  least  a  score  of  figures  about 
these  fires. 

Within  rifle-shot  of  them,  almost  within 
shouting  distance,  there  was  not  only  the  small 
war  party  that  had  attacked  the  camp,  but  a 
third  of  the  fighting  men  of  the  Woonga  tribe! 
Rod  understood  their  terrible  predicament. 
To  attack  the  outlaws  in  an  effort  to  rescue 

271 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Wabi  meant  that  an  overwhelming  force 
would  be  upon  them  within  a  few  minutes ;  to 
allow  Wabi  to  remain  a  captive  meant — he 
shuddered  at  the  thought  of  what  it  might 
mean,  for  he  knew  of  the  merciless  vengeance 
of  the  Woongas  upon  the  House  of  Wabinosh. 

And  while  he  was  thinking  of  these  things 
the  faithful  old  warrior  beside  him  had  al- 
ready formed  his  plan  of  attack.  He  would  die 
with  Wabi,  gladly — a  fighting,  terrible  slave 
to  devotion  to  the  last;  but  he  would  not  see 
Wabi  die  alone.  A  whispered  word,  a  last 
look  at  his  rifle,  and  Mukoki  hurried  down 
into  the  plains. 

At  the  foot  of  the  hill  he  abandoned  the  out- 
law trail  and  Rod  realized  that  his  plan  was 
to  sweep  swiftly  in  a  semicircle,  surprising  the 
Woongas  from  the  front  or  side  instead  of  ap- 
proaching from  the  rear.  Again  he  was  taxed 
to  his  utmost  to  keep  pace  with  the  avenging 
Mukoki.  Less  than  ten  minutes  later  the  In- 
dian peered  cautiously  from  behind  a  clump 
272 


THE   RESCUE   OF   WABIGOON 

of  hazel,  and  then  looked  back  at  Rod,  a  smile 
of  satisfaction  on  his  face. 

"They  come,"  he  breathed,  just  loud  enough 
to  hear.  "They  come!" 

Rod  peered  over  his  shoulder,  and  his  heart 
smote  mightily  within  him.  Unconscious  of 
their  peril  the  Woongas  were  approaching 
two  hundred  yards  away.  Mukoki  gazed  into 
his  companion's  face  and  his  eyes  were  almost 
pleading  as  he  laid  a  bronzed  crinkled  hand 
upon  the  white  boy's  arm. 

"You  take  front  man — ahead  of  Wabi,"  he 
whispered.  "I  take  other  t'ree.  See  that  tree — 
heem  birch,  with  bark  off?  Shoot  heem  there. 
You  no  tremble?  You  no  miss?" 

"No,"  replied  Rod.  He  gripped  the  red 
hand  in  his  own.  "I'll  kill,  Mukoki.  I'll  kill 
him  dead — in  one  shot  I" 

They  could  hear  the  voices  of  the  outlaws 
now,  and  soon  they  saw  that  Wabi's  face  was 
disfigured  with  blood. 

Step  by  step,  slowly  and  carelessly,  the 
273 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

Woongas  approached.  They  were  fifty  yards 
from  the  marked  birch  now — forty — thirty — 
now  only  ten.  Roderick's  rifle  was  at  his 
shoulder.  Already  it  held  a  deadly  bead  en 
the  breast  of  the  leader. 

Five  yards  more — 

The  outlaw  passed  behind  the  tree ;  he  came 
out,  and  the  young  hunter  pressed  the  trigger. 
The  leader  stopped  in  his  snow-shoes.  Even 
before  he  had  crumpled  down  into  a  lifeless 
heap  in  the  snow  a  furious  volley  of  shots  spat 
forth  from  Mukoki's  gun,  and  when  Rod 
swung  his  own  rifle  to  join  again  in  the  fray 
he  found  that  only  one  of  the  four  was  stand- 
ing, and  he  with  his  hands  to  his  breast  as  he 
tottered  about  to  fall.  But  from  some  one  of 
those  who  had  fallen  there  had  gone  out  a 
wild,  terrible  cry,  and  even  as  Rod  and  Mu- 
koki  rushed  out  to  free  Wabigoon  there  came 
an  answering  yell  from  the  direction  of  the 
Woonga  camp. 

Mukoki's  knife  was  in  his  hand  by  the  time 
274 


THE   RESCUE   OF   WABIGOON 

he  reached  Wabi,  and  with  one  or  two  slashes 
he  had  released  his  hands. 

"You  hurt— bad?"  he  asked. 

"No— no!"  replied  Wabi.  "I  knew  you'd 
come,  boys — dear  old  friends!" 

As  he  spoke  he  turned  to  the  fallen  leader 
and  Rod  saw  him  take  possession  of  the  rifle 
and  revolver  which  he  had  lost  in  their  fight 
with  the  Woongas  weeks  before.  Mukoki  had 
already  spied  their  precious  pack  of  furs  on 
one  of  the  outlaw's  backs,  and  he  flung  it  over 
his  own. 

"You  saw  the  camp?"  queried  Wabi  ex- 
citedly. 

"Yes." 

"They  will  be  upon  us  in  a  minute!  Which 
way,  Mukoki?" 

"The  chasm!"  half  shouted  Rod.  "The 
chasm!  If  we  can  reach  the  chasm — " 

"The  chasm!"  reiterated  Wabigoon. 

Mukoki  had  fallen  behind  and  motioned  for 
Wabi  and  Rod  to  take  the  lead.  Even  now  he 
275 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

was  determined  to  take  the  brunt  of  danger  by 
bringing  up  the  rear. 

There  was  no  time  for  argument  and  Wabi- 
goon  set  off  at  a  rapid  pace.  From  behind 
there  came  the  click  of  shells  as  the  Indian 
loaded  his  rifle  on  the  run.  While  the  other 
two  had  been  busy  at  the  scene  of  the  ambush 
Rod  had  replaced  his  empty  shell,  and  now, 
as  he  led,  Wabi  examined  the  armament  that 
had  been  stolen  from  them  by  the  outlaws. 

"How  many  shells  have  you  got,  Rod?"  he 
asked  over  his  shoulder. 

"Forty-nine." 

"There's  only  four  left  in  this  belt  besides 
five  in  the  gun,"  called  back  the  Indian  youth. 
"Give  me — some." 

Without  halting  Rod  plucked  a  dozen  car- 
tridges from  his  belt  and  passed  them  on. 

Now  they  had  reached  the  hill.  At  its  sum- 
mit they  paused  to  recover  their  breath  and 
take  a  look  at  the  camp. 

The  fires  were  deserted.  A  quarter  of  a  mile 
out  on  the  plain  they  saw  half  a  dozen  of  their 
276 


THE   RESCUE   OF   WABIGOON 

pursuers  speeding  toward  the  hill.  The  rest 
were  already  concealed  in  the  nearer  thickets 
of  the  bottom. 

"We  must  beat  them  to  the  chasm  1"  said  the 
young  Indian. 

As  he  spoke  Wabi  turned  and  led  the  wa^ 
again. 

Rod's  heart  fell  like  a  lump  within  him.  We 
must  beat  them  to  the  chasm  1  Those  words  of 
Wabi's  brought  him  to  the  terrible  realization 
that  his  own  powers  of  endurance  were  rapidly 
ebbing.  His  race  behind  Mukoki  to  the  burn- 
ing cabin  had  seemed  to  rob  the  life  from  the 
muscles  of  his  limbs,  and  each  step  now  added 
to  his  weakness.  And  the  chasm  was  a  mile  be- 
yond the  dip,  and  the  entrance  into  that  chasm 
still  two  miles  farther.  Three  miles!  Could 
he  hold  out? 

He  heard  Mukoki  thumping  along  behind 
him;  ahead  of  him  Wabi  was  unconsciously 
widening  the  distance  between  them.  He 
made  a  powerful  effort  to  close  the  breach,  but 
it  was  futile.  Then  from  close  in  his  rear  there 
277 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

came  a  warning  halloo  from  the  old  Indian, 
and  Wabi  turned. 

"He  run  t'ree  mile  to  burning  cabin,"  said 
Mukoki.  "He  no  make  chasm!" 

Rod  was  deathly  white  and  breathing  so 
hard  that  he  could  not  speak.  The  quick- 
witted Wabi  at  once  realized  their  situation. 

"There  is  just  one  thing  for  us  to  do,  Muky. 
We  must  stop  the  Woongas  at  the  dip.  We'll 
fire  down  upon  them  from  the  top  of  the  hill 
beyond  the  lake.  We  can  drop  three  or  four 
of  them  and  they  won't  dare  to  come  straight 
after  us  then.  They  will  think  we  are  going  to 
fight  them  from  there  and  will  take  time  to 
sneak  around  us.  Meanwhile  we'll  get  a  good 
lead  in  the  direction  of  the  chasm." 

He  led  off  again,  this  time  a  little  slower. 
Three  minutes  later  they  entered  into  the  dip, 
crossed  it  safely,  and  were  already  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill,  when  from  the  opposite  side  of  the 
hollow  there  came  a  triumphant  blood-cur- 
dling yell. 

"Hurry!"  shouted  Wabi.  "They  see  us!" 
278 


THE   RESCUE   OF   WABIGOON 

Even  as  he  spoke  there  came  the  crack  of  a 
rifle. 

Bzzzzzzz-inggggg ! 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life  Rod  heard  that 
terrible  death-song  of  a  bullet  close  to  his  head 
and  saw  the  snow  fly  up  a  dozen  feet  beyond 
the  young  Indian. 

For  an  interval  of  twenty  seconds  there  was 
silence;  then  there  came  another  shot,  and 
after  that  three  others  in  quick  succession. 
Wabi  stumbled. 

"Not  hit!"  he  called,  scrambling  to  his  feet. 
"Confound— that  rock!" 

He  rose  to  the  hilltop  with  Rod  close  be- 
hind him,  and  from  the  opposite  side  of  the 
lake  there  came  a  fusillade  of  half  a  dozen 
shots.  Instinctively  Rod  dropped  upon  his 
face.  And  in  that  instant,  as  he  lay  in  the  snow, 
he  heard  the  sickening  thud  of  a  bullet  and  a 
sharp  sudden  cry  of  pain  from  Mukoki.  But 
the  old  warrior  came  up  beside  him  and  they 
passed  into  the  shelter  of  the  hilltop  together. 

"I&  it  bad?  Is  it  bad,  Mukoki?  Is  it  bad—" 
279 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Wabi  was  almost  sobbing  as  he  turned  and 
threw  an  arm  around  the  old  Indian.  "Are 
you  hit— bad?" 

Mukoki  staggered,  but  caught  himself. 

"In  here,"  he  said,  putting  a  hand  to  his  left 
shoulder.  "She — no — bad."  He  smiled,  cour- 
age gleaming  with  pain  in  his  eyes,  and  swung 
off  the  light  pack  of  furs.  "We  give  'em — 
devil— here!" 

Crouching,  they  peered  over  the  edge  of  the 
hill.  Half  a  dozen  Woongas  had  already  left 
the  cedars  and  were  following  swiftly  across 
the  open.  Others  broke  from  the  cover,  and 
Wabi  saw  that  a  number  of  them  were  without 
snow-shoes.  He  exultantly  drew  Mukoki's  at- 
tention to  this  fact,  but  the  latter  did  not  lift 
his  eyes.  In  a  few  moments  he  spoke. 

"Now  we  give  'em — devil !" 

Eight  pursuers  on  snow-shoes  were  in  the 
open  of  the  dip.  Six  of  them  had  reached  the 
lake.  Rod  held  his  fire.  He  knew  that  it  was 
now  more  important  for  him  to  recover  his 
wind  than  to  fight,  and  he  drew  great  drafts 
280 


THE   RESCUE   OF   WABIGOON 

of  air  into  his  lungs  while  his  two  comrades 
leveled  their  rifles.  He  could  fire  after  they 
were  done  if  it  was  necessary. 

There  was  slow  deadly  deliberation  in  the 
way  Mukoki  and  Wabigoon  sighted  along 
their  rifle-barrels.  Mukoki  fired  first;  one 
shot,  two — with  a  second's  interval  between — 
and  an  outlaw  half-way  across  the  lake  pitched 
forward  into  the  snow.  As  he  fell,  Wabi  fired 
once,  and  there  came  to  their  ears  shriek  after 
shriek  of  agony  as  a  second  pursuer  fell  with 
a  shattered  leg.  At  the  cries  and  shots  of  battle 
the  hot  blood  rushed  through  Rod's  veins,  and 
with  an  excited  shout  of  defiance  he  brought 
his  rifle  to  his  shoulder  and  in  unison  the  three 
guns  sent  fire  and  death  into  the  dip  below. 

Only  three  of  the  eight  Woongas  remained 
and  they  had  turned  and  were  running  toward 
the  shelter  of  the  cedars. 

"Hurrah  1"  shouted  Rod. 

In  his  excitement  he  got  upon  his  feet  and 
sent  his  fifth  and  last  shot  after  the  fleeing  out- 
laws. 

281 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

"Hurrah!  Wow!  Let's  go  after  'em!" 

"Get  down!"  commanded  Wabi.  "Load  in 
a  hurry!" 

Clink — clink — clink  sounded  the  new  shells 
as  Mukoki  and  Wabigoon  thrust  them  into 
their  magazines.  Five  seconds  more  and  they 
were  sending  a  terrific  fusillade  of  shots  into 
the  edge  of  the  cedars — ten  in  all — and  by  the 
time  he  had  reloaded  his  own  gun  Rod  could 
see  nothing  to  shoot  at. 

"That  will  hold  them  for  a  while,"  spoke 
Wabi.  "Most  of  them  came  in  too  big  a  hurry, 
and  without  their  snow-shoes,  Muky.  We'll 
beat  them  to  the  chasm — easy!"  He  put  an 
arm  around  the  shoulders  of  the  old  Indian, 
who  was  still  lying  upon  his  face  in  the  snow. 
"Let  me  see,  Muky — let  me  see — " 

"Chasm  first,"  replied  Mukoki.  "She  no 
bad.  No  hit  bone.  No  bleed — much." 

From  behind  Rod  could  see  that  Mukoki's 
coat  was  showing  a  growing  blotch  of  red. 

"Are  you  sure — you  can  reach  the  chasm?" 

"Yes." 

282 


THE  RESCUE  OF  WABIGOON 

In  proof  of  his  assertion  the  wounded  In- 
dian rose  to  his  feet  and  approached  the  pack 
of  furs.  Wabi  was  ahead  of  him,  and  placed  it 
upon  his  own  shoulders. 

"You  and  Rod  lead  the  way,"  he  said.  "You 
two  know  where  to  find  the  opening  into  the 
chasm.  I've  never  been  there." 

Mukoki  started  down  the  hill,  and  Rod, 
close  behind,  could  hear  him  breathing  heav- 
ily; there  was  no  longer  fear  for  himself  in  his 
soul,  but  for  that  grim  faithful  warrior  ahead, 
who  would  die  in  his  tracks  without  a  murmur 
and  with  a  smile  of  triumph  and  fearlessness 
on  his  lips. 


283 


CHAPTER  XV 

RODERICK  HOLDS  THE  WOONGAS  AT  BAY 

THEY  traveled  more  slowly  now  and 
Rod  found  his  strength  returning. 
When  they  reached  the  second  ridge 
he  took  Mukoki  by  the  arm  and  assisted  him 
up,,  and  the  old  Indian  made  no  demur.  This 
spoke  more  strongly  of  his  hurt  than  words. 
There  was  still  no  sign  of  their  enemies  be- 
hind. From  the  top  of  the  second  ridge  they 
could  look  back  upon  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of 
the  valley  below,  and  it  was  here  that  Rod  sug- 
gested that  he  remain  on  watch  for  a  few  min- 
utes while  Wabigoon  went  on  with  Mukoki. 
The  young  hunters  could  see  that  the  Indian 
was  becoming  weaker  at  every  step,  and  Mu- 
koki could  no  longer  conceal  this  weakness  in 
spite  of  the  tremendous  efforts  he  made  to  ap- 
pear natural. 

284 


THE   WOONGAS   Al    BAY 

"I  believe  it  is  bad,"  whispered  Wabi  to 
Rod,  his  face  strangely  white.  "I  believe  it  is 
worse  than  we  think.  He  is  bleeding  hard. 
Your  idea  is  a  good  one.  Watch  here,  and  if 
the  Woongas  show  up  in  the  valley  open  fire 
on  them.  I'll  leave  you  my  gun,  too,  so  they'll 
think  we  are  going  to  give  them  another  fight. 
That  will  keep  them  back  for  a  time.  I'm  go- 
ing to  stop  Muky  up  here  a  little  way  and  dress 
his  wound.  He  will  bleed  to  death  if  I  don't." 

"And  then  go  on,"  added  Rod.  "Don't  stop 
if  you  hear  me  fire,  but  hurry  on  to  the  chasm. 
I  know  the  way  and  will  join  you.  I'm  as 
strong  as  I  ever  was  now,  and  can  catch  up 
with  you  easily  with  Mukoki  traveling  as 
slowly  as  he  does." 

During  this  brief  conversation  Mukoki  had 
continued  his  way  along  the  ridge  and  Wabi 
hurried  to  overtake  him.  Meanwhile  Rod 
concealed  himself  behind  a  rock,  from  which 
vantage-point  he  could  see  the  whole  of  that 
part  of  the  valley  across  which  they  had  come. 

He  looked  at  his  watch  and  in  tense  anxiety 
285 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

counted  every  minute  after  that.  He  allowed 
ten  minutes  for  the  dressing  of  Mukoki's 
wound.  Every  second  gained  from  then  on 
would  be  priceless.  For  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
he  kept  his  eyes  with  ceaseless  vigilance  upon 
their  back  trail.  Surely  the  Woongas  had  se- 
cured their  snow-shoes  by  this  time!  Was  it 
possible  that  they  had  given  up  the  pursuit — 
that  their  terrible  experience  in  the  dip  had 
made  them  afraid  of  further  battle?  Rod  an- 
swered this  question  in  the  negative.  He  was 
sure  that  the  Woongas  knew  that  Wabi  was 
the  son  of  the  factor  of  Wabinosh  House. 
Therefore  they  would  make  every  effort  to 
recapture  him,  even  though  they  had  to  follow 
far  and  a  dozen  lives  were  lost  before  that  feat 
was  accomplished. 

A  movement  in  the  snow  across  the  valley 
caught  Rod's  eyes.  He  straightened  himself, 
and  his  breath  came  quickly.  Two  figures  had 
appeared  in  the  open.  Another  followed  close 
behind,  and  after  that  there  came  others,  until 
the  waiting  youth  had  counted  sixteen.  They 
286 


THE   WOONGAS   AT   BAY 

were  all  on  snow-shoes,  following  swiftly  ove* 
the  trail  of  the  fugitives. 

The  young  hunter  looked  at  his  watch  again. 
Twenty-five  minutes  had  passed.  Mukoki  and 
Wabigoon  had  secured  a  good  start.  If  he 
could  only  hold  the  outlaws  in  the  valley  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  more — just  fifteen  short 
minutes — they  would  almost  have  reached  the 
entrance  into  the  chasm. 

Alone,  with  his  own  life  and  those  of  his 
comrades  depending  upon  him,  the  boy  was 
cool.  There  was  no  tremble  in  his  hands  to  de- 
stroy the  accuracy  of  his  rifle-fire,  no  blurring 
excitement  or  fear  in  his  brain  to  trouble  his 
judgment  of  distance  and  range.  He  made  up 
his  mind  that  he  would  not  fire  until  they  had 
come  within  four  hundred  yards.  Between 
that  distance  and  three  hundred  he  was  sure 
|he  could  drop  at  least  one  or  two  of  them. 

He  measured  his  range  by  a  jackpine  stub, 

and  when  two  of  the  Woongas  had  reached 

and  passed  that  stub  he  fired.  He  saw  the  snow 

thrown  up  six  feet  in  front  of  the  leader.  He 

287 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

fired  again,  and  again,  and  one  of  the  two 
shots,  a  little  high,  struck  the  second  outlaw. 
The  leader  had  darted  back  to  the  shelter  of 
the  stub  and  Rod  sent  another  bullet  whizzing 
past  his  ears.  His  fifth  he  turned  into  the  main 
body  of  the  pursuers,  and  then,  catching  up 
Wabi's  rifle,  he  poured  a  hail  of  five  bullets 
among  them  in  as  many  seconds. 

The  effect  was  instantaneous.  The  outlaws 
scattered  in  retreat  and  Rod  saw  that  a  second 
figure  was  lying  motionless  in  the  snow.  He 
began  to  reload  his  rifles  and  by  the  time  he 
had  finished  the  Woongas  had  separated  and 
were  running  to  the  right  and  the  left  of  him. 
For  the  last  time  he  looked  at  his  watch.  Wabi 
and  Mukoki  had  been  gone  thirty-five  min- 
utes. 

The  boy  crept  back  from  his  rock,  straight- 
ened himself,  and  followed  in  their  trail.  He 
mentally  calculated  that  it  would  be  ten  min- 
utes before  the  Woongas,  coming  up  from  thd 
sides  and  rear,  would  discover  his  flight,  and 
by  that  time  he  would  have  nearly  a  mile  the 
288 


THE   WOONGAS   AT   BAY 

start  of  them.  He  saw,  without  stopping, 
where  Wabi  had  dressed  Mukoki's  wound. 
There  were  spots  of  blood  and  a  red  rag  upon 
the  snow.  Half  a  mile  farther  on  the  two  had 
paused  again,  and  this  time  he  knew  that  M u- 
koki  had  stopped  to  rest.  From  now  on  they 
had  rested  every  quarter  of  a  mile  or  so,  and 
soon  Roderick  saw  them  toiling  slowly 
through  the  snow  ahead  of  him. 

He  ran  up,  panting,  anxious. 

"How— "he  began. 

Wabi  looked  at  him  grimly. 

"How  much  farther,  Rod?"  he  asked. 

"Not  more  than  half  a  mile." 

Wabi  motioned  for  him  to  take  Mukoki's 
other  arm. 

"He  has  bled  a  good  deal,"  he  said.  There 
was  a  hardness  in  his  voice  that  made  Rod 
shudder,  and  he  caught  his  breath  as  Wabi 
shot  him  a  meaning  glance  behind  the  old  war- 
rior's doubled  shoulders. 

They  went  faster  now,  almost  carrying  their 
wounded  comrade  between  them.  Suddenly 
289 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Wabi  paused,  threw  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder, 
and  fired.  A  few  yards  ahead  a  huge  white 
rabbit  kicked  in  his  death  struggles  in  the 
snow. 

"If  we  do  reach  the  chasm  Mukoki  must 
have  something  to  eat,"  he  said. 

"We'll  reach  it!"  gasped  Rod.  "We'll  reach 
it!  There's  the  woods.  We  go  down  there!" 

They  almost  ran,  with  Mukoki's  snow-shod 
feet  dragging  between  them,  and  five  minutes 
later  they  were  carrying  the  half-unconscious 
Indian  down  the  steep  side  of  the  mountain. 
At  its  foot  Wabi  turned,  and  his  eyes  flashed 
with  vengeful  hatred. 

"Now,  you  devils !"  he  shouted  up  defiantly. 
"Now!" 

Mukoki  aroused  himself  for  a  few  moments 
and  Rod  helped  him  back  to  the  shelter  of  the 
chasm  wall.  He  found  a  nook  between  great 
masses  of  rock,  almost  clear  of  snow,  and  left 
him  there  while  he  hurried  back  to  Wabigoon. 

"You  stand  on  guard  here,  Rod,"  said  the 
latter.  "We  must  cook  that  rabbit  and  get 
290 


THE   WOONGAS   AT   BAY 

some  life  back  into  Mukoki.  I  think  he  has 
stopped  bleeding,  but  I  am  going  to  look 
again.  The  wound  isn't  fatal,  but  it  has  weak- 
ened him.  If  we  can  get  something  hot  into 
him  I  believe  he  will  be  able  to  walk  again. 
Did  you  have  anything  left  over  from  your 
dinner  on  the  trail  to-day?" 

Rod  unstrapped  the  small  pack  in  which  the 
hunters  carried  their  food  while  on  the  trail, 
and  which  had  been  upon  his  shoulders  since 
noon. 

"There  is  a  double  handful  of  coffee,  a  cup- 
ful of  tea,  plenty  of  salt  and  a  little  bread,"  he 
said. 

"Good!  Few  enough  supplies  for  three  peo- 
ple in  this  kind  of  a  wilderness — but  they'll 
save  Mukoki!" 

Wabi  went  back,  while  Rod,  sheltered  be- 
hind a  rock,  watched  the  narrow  incline  into 
the  chasm.  He  almost  hoped  the  Woongas 
would  dare  to  attempt  a  descent,  for  he  was 
sure  that  he  and  Wabi  would  have  them  at  a 
terrible  disadvantage  and  with  their  revolvers 

2QI 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

three  rifles  could  inflict  a  decisive  blow 
upon  them  before  they  reached  the  bottom. 
But  he  saw  no  sign  of  their  enemies.  He  heard 
no  sound  from  above.  Yet  he  knew  that  the 
outlaws  were  very  near — only  waiting  for  the 
protecting  darkness  of  night. 

He  heard  the  crackling  of  Wabi's  fire  and 
the  odor  of  coffee  came  to  him;  and  Wabi,  as* 
sured  that  their  presence  was  known  to  the 
Woongas,  began  whistling  cheerily.  In  a  few 
minutes  he  rejoined  Rod  behind  the  rock. 

"They  will  attack  us  as  soon  as  it  gets  good 
and  dark,"  he  said  coolly.  "That  is,  if  they  can 
find  us.  As  soon  as  they  are  no  longer  able  to 
see  down  into  the  chasm  we  will  find  some 
kind  of  a  hiding-place.  Mukoki  will  be  able 
to  travel  then." 

A  memory  of  the  cleft  in  the  chasm  wall 
came  to  Rod  and  he  quickly  described  it  to  his 
companion.  It  was  an  ideal  hiding-place  at 
night,  and  if  Mukoki  was  strong  enough  they 
could  steal  up  out  of  the  chasm  and  secure  a 
long  start  into  the  south  before  the  Woongas 
292 


THE   WOONGAS   AT   BAY 

discovered  their  flight  in  the  morning.  There 
was  just  one  chance  of  failure.  If  the  spy 
whose  trail  had  revealed  the  break  in  the 
mountain  to  Rod  was  not  among  the  outlaws7 
wounded  or  dead  the  cleft  might  be  guarded, 
or  the  Woongas  themselves  might  employ  it  in 
making  a  descent  upon  them. 

"It's  worth  the  risk  anyway,"  said  Wabi. 
"The  chances  are  even  that  your  outlaw  ran 
across  the  fissure  by  accident  and  that  his  com- 
panions are  not  aware  of  its  existence.  And 
they'll  not  follow  our  trail  down  the  chasm 
to-night,  I'll  wager.  In  the  cover  of  darkness 
they  will  steal  down  among  the  rocks  and  then 
wait  for  daylight.  Meanwhile  we  can  be  trav- 
eling southward  and  when  they  catch  up  with 
us  we  will  give  them  another  fight  if  they  want 
it" 

"We  can  start  pretty  soon?" 

"Within  an  hour." 

For  some  time  the  two  stood  in  silent  watch- 
fulness. Suddenly  Rod  asked: 

"Where  is  Wolf?" 

293 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Wabi  laughed,  softly,  exultantly. 

"Gone  back  to  his  people,  Rod.  He  will  be 
crying  in  the  wild  hunt-pack  to-night.  Good 
old  Wolf!"  The  laugh  left  his  lips  and  there 
was  a  tremble  of  regret  in  his  voice.  "The 
Woongas  came  from  the  back  of  the  cabin — 
took  me  by  surprise — and  we  had  it  hot  and 
heavy  for  a  few  minutes.  We  fell  back  where 
Wolf  was  tied  and  just  as  I  knew  they'd  got 
me  sure  I  cut  his  babeesh  with  the  knife  I  had 
in  my  hand." 

"Didr/'t  he  show  tight?" 

"For  a  minute.  Then  one  of  the  Indians  shot 
at  him  and  he  hiked  off  into  the  woods." 

"Queer  they  didn't  wait  for  Mukoki  and 
me,"  mused  Rod.  "Why  didn't  they  ambush 
us?" 

"Because  they  didn't  want  you,  and  they 
were  sure  they'd  reach  their  camp  before  you 
took  up  the  trail.  I  was  their  prize.  With  me 
in  their  power  they  figured  on  communicating 
with  you  and  Mukoki  and  sending  you  back 
to  the  Post  with  their  terms.  They  would  have 
294 


THE   WOONGAS   AT   BAY 

bled  father  to  his  last  cent — and  then  killed 
me.  Oh,  they  talked  pretty  plainly  to  me  when 
they  thought  they  had  me !" 

There  came  a  noise  from  above  them  and 
the  young  hunters  held  their  rifles  in  readiness.1 
Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  crashing  sound, 
until  a  small  boulder  shot  past  them  into  the 
chasm. 

"They're  up  there,"  grinned  Wabi,  lowering 
his  gun.  "That  was  an  accident,  but  you'd  bet- 
ter keep  your  eyes  open.  I'll  bet  the  whole 
tribe  feel  like  murdering  the  fellow  who 
rolled  over  that  stone !" 

He  crept  cautiously  back  to  Mukoki,  and 
Rod  crouched  with  his  face  to  the  narrow  trail 
leading  down  from  the  top  of  the  mountain. 
Deep  shadows  were  beginning  to  lurk  among 
the  trees  and  he  was  determined  that  any 
movement  there  would  draw  his  fire.  Fifteen 
minutes  later  Wabi  returned,  eating  raven- 
ously at  a  big  hind  quarter  of  broiled  rabbit. 

"I've  had  my  coffee,"  he  greeted.  "Go  back 
and  eat  and  drink,  and  build  the  fire  up  high, 
295 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

Don't  mind  me  when  I  shoot.  I  am  going  to 
fire  just  to  let  the  Woongas  know  we  are  on 
guard,  and  after  that  we'll  hustle  for  that 
break  in  the  mountain." 

Rod  found  Mukoki  with  a  chunk  of  rabbit 
in  one  hand  and  a  cup  of  coffee  in  the  other. 
The  wounded  Indian  smiled  with  something 
like  the  old  light  in  his  eyes  and  a  mighty  load 
was  lifted  from  Rod's  heart. 

"You're  better?"  he  asked. 

"Fine!"  replied  Mukoki.  "No  much  hurt. 
Good  fight  some  more.  Wabi  say,  'No,  you 
stay.'  "  His  face  became  a  map  of  grimaces  to 
show  his  disapproval  of  Wabi's  command. 

Rod  helped  himself  to  the  meat  and  coffee. 
He  was  hungry,  but  after  he  was  done  there  re- 
mained some  of  the  rabbit  and  a  biscuit  and 
these  he  placed  in  his  pack  for  further  use. 
Soon  after  this  there  came  two  shots  from  the 
i  rock  and  before  the  echoes  had  died  away 
down  the  chasm  Wabi  approached  through 
the  gathering  gloom. 

It  was  easy  for  the  hunters  to  steal  along  the 
296 


THE   WOONGAS   AT   BAY 

concealment  of  the  mountain  wall,  and  even  if 
there  had  been  prying  eyes  on  the  opposite 
ridge  they  could  not  have  penetrated  the  thick- 
ening darkness  in  the  bottom  of  the  gulch.  For 
some  time  the  flight  was  continued  with  ex- 
treme caution,  no  sound  being  made  to  arouse 
the  suspicion  of  any  outlaw  who  might  be 
patrolling  the  edge  of  the  precipice.  At  the 
end  of  half  an  hour  Mukoki,  who  was  in  the 
lead  that  he  might  set  a  pace  according  to  his 
strength,  quickened  his  steps.  Rod  was  close 
beside  him  now,  his  eyes  ceaselessly  searching 
the  chasm  wall  for  signs  that  would  tell  him 
when  they  were  nearing  the  rift.  Suddenly 
Wabi  halted  in  his  tracks  and  gave  a  low  hiss 
that  stopped  them. 

"It's  snowing!"  he  whispered. 

Mukoki  lifted  his  face.  Great  solitary  flakes 
of  snow  fell  upon  it. 

"She  snow  hard — soon.  Mebby  cover  snow- 
shoe  trails!" 

"And  if  it  does — we're  safe!"  There  was  a 
vibrant  joy  in  Wabi's  voice. 
297 


THE   WOLF  HUNTERS 

For  a  full  minute  Mukoki  held  his  face  to 
the  sky. 

"Hear  small  wind  over  chasm,"  he  said. 
"She  come  from  south.  She  snow  hard — now 
— up  there !" 

They  went  on,  stirred  by  new  hope.  Rod 
could  feel  that  the  flakes  were  coming  thicker. 
The  three  now  kept  close  to  the  chasm  wall  in 
their  search  for  the  rift.  How  changed  all 
things  were  at  night!  Rod's  heart  throbbed 
now  with  hope,  now  with  doubt,  now  with  ac- 
tual fear.  Was  it  possible  that  he  could  not 
find  it?  Had  they  passed  it  among  some  of 
the  black  shadows  behind?  He  saw  no  rock 
that  he  recognized,  no  overhanging  crag,  no 
sign  to  guide  him.  He  stopped,  and  his  voice 
betrayed  his  uneasiness  as  he  asked: 

"How  far  do  you  think  we  have  come?" 

Mukoki  had  gone  a  few  steps  ahead,  and  be- 
fore Wabi  answered  he  called  softly  to  them 
from  close  up  against  the  chasm  wall.  They 
hurried  to  him  and  found  him  standing  beside 
the  rift. 

298 


THE   WOONGAS  AT  BAY 

"Here!" 

Wabi  handed  his  rifle  to  Rod. 

"I'm  going  up  first,"  he  announced.  "If 
the  coast  is  clear  I'll  whistle  down." 

For  a  few  moments  Mukoki  and  Rod  could 
hear  him  as  he  crawled  up  the  fissure.  Then 
all  was  silent.  A  quarter  of  an  hour  passed, 
and  a  low  whistle  came  to  their  ears.  Another 
ten  minutes  and  the  three  stood  together  at  the 
top  of  the  mountain,  Rod  and  the  wounded 
Mukoki  breathing  hard  from  their  exertions. 

For  a  time  the  three  sat  down  in  the  snow 
and  waited,  watched,  listened ;  and  from  Rod's 
heart  there  went  up  something  that  was  al- 
most a  prayer,  for  it  was  snowing — snowing 
hard,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  storm  was 
something  which  God  had  specially  directed 
should  fall  in  their  path  that  it  might  shield 
them  and  bring  them  safely  home. 

And  when  he  rose  to  his  feet  Wabi  was  still 
silent,  and  the  three  gripped  hands  in  mute 
thankfulness  at  their  deliverance. 

Still  speechless,  they  turned  instinctively 
299 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

for  a  moment  back  to  the  dark  desolation  be- 
yond the  chasm — the  great,  white  wilderness 
in  which  they  had  passed  so  many  adventurous 
yet  happy  weeks ;  and  as  they  gazed  into  the 
chaos  beyond  the  second  mountain  there  came 
to  them  the  lonely,  wailing  howl  of  a  wolf. 

"I  wonder,"  said  Wabi  softly.  "I  wonder—- 
if that— is  Wolf  ?" 

And  then,  Indian  file,  they  trailed  into  the 
south. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  SURPRISE  AT  THE  POST 

FROM  the  moment  that  the  adventurers 
turned  their  backs  upon  the  Woonga 
country  Mukoki  was  in  command. 
With  the  storm  in  their  favor  everything  else 
now  depended  upon  the  craft  of  the  old  path- 
finder. There  was  neither  moon  nor  wind  to 
guide  them,  and  even  Wabi  felt  that  he  was 
not  competent  to  strike  a  straight  trail  in  a 
strange  country  and  a  night  storm.  But  Mu- 
koki, still  a  savage  in  the  ways  of  the  wilder- 
ness, seemed  possessed  of  that  mysterious  sixth 
sense  which  is  known  as  the  sense  of  orienta- 
tion— that  almost  supernatural  instinct  which 
guides  the  carrier  pigeon  as  straight  as  a  die 
to  its  home-cote  hundreds  of  miles-  away. 
Again  and  again  during  that  thrilling  night's 
flight  Wabi  or  Rod  would  ask  the  Indian 
301 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

where  Wabinosh  House  lay,  and  he  would 
point  out  its  direction  to  them  without  hesita- 
tion. And  each  time  it  seemed  to  the  city 
youth  that  he  pointed  a  different  way,  and  it 
proved  to  him  how  easy  it  was  to  become  hope- 
lessly lost  in  the  wilderness. 

Not  until  midnight  did  they  pause  to  rest. 
They  had  traveled  slowly  but  steadily  and 
Wabi  figured  that  they  had  covered  fifteen 
miles.  Five  miles  behind  them  their  trail  was 
completely  obliterated  by  the  falling  snow. 
Morning  would  betray  to  the  Woongas  no  sign 
of  the  direction  taken  by  the  fugitives. 

"They  will  believe  that  we  have  struck  di- 
rectly westward  for  the  Post,"  said  Wabi. 
"To-morrow  night  we'll  be  fifty  miles  apart." 

During  this  stop  a  small  fire  was  built  be- 
hind a  fallen  log  and  the  hunters  refreshed 
themselves  with  a  pot  of  strong  coffee  and  what 
little  remained  of  the  rabbit  and  biscuits.  The 
march  was  then  resumed. 

It  seemed  to  Rod  that  they  had  climbed  an 
interminable  number  of  ridges  and  had  picked 
302 


THE   SURPRISE   AT  THE   POST 

their  way  through  an  interminable  number  01 
swampy  bottoms  between  them,  and  he,  even 
more  than  Mukoki,  was  relieved  when  they 
struck  the  easier  traveling  of  open  plains.  In 
fact,  Mukoki  seemed  scarcely  to  give  a  thought 
to  his  wound  and  Roderick  was  almost  ready 
to  drop  in  his  tracks  by  the  time  a  halt  was 
called  an  hour  before  dawn.  The  old  warrior 
was  confident  that  they  were  now  well  out  of 
danger  and  a  rousing  camp-fire  was  built  in 
the  shelter  of  a  thick  growth  of  spruce. 

"Spruce  partridge  in  mornin',"  affirmed 
Mukoki.  "Plenty  here  for  breakfast." 

"How  do  you  know?"  asked  Rod,  whcse 
hunger  was  ravenous. 

"Fine  thick  spruce,  all  in  shelter  of  dip," 
explained  the  Indian.  "Birds  winter  here." 

Wabi  had  unpacked  the  furs,  and  the  larger 
of  these,  including  six  lynx  and  three  espe- 
cially fine  wolf  skins,  he  divided  into  three 
piles. 

"They'll  make  mighty  comfortable  beds  if 
you  keep  close  enough  to  the  fire,"  he  ex- 
303 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

plained.  "Get  a  few  spruce  boughs,  Rod,  and 
cover  them  over  with  one  of  the  wolf  skins. 
The  two  lynx  pelts  will  make  the  warmest 
blankets  you  ever  had." 

Rod  quickly  availed  himself  of  this  idea, 
and  within  half  an  hour  he  was  sleeping 
soundly.  Mukoki  and  Wabigoon,  more  inured 
to  the  hardships  of  the  wilderness,  took  only 
brief  snatches  of  slumber,  one  or  both  awaken- 
ing now  and  then  to  replenish  the  fire.  As  soon 
as  it  was  light  enough  the  two  Indians  went 
quietly  out  into  the  spruce  with  their  guns,  and 
their  shotf*  a  little  later  awakened  Rod.  When 
they  returned  they  brought  three  partridges 
with  them. 

"There  are  dozens  of  them  among  the 
spruce,"  said  Wabi,  "but  just  now  we  do  not 
want  to  shoot  any  oftener  than  is  absolutely 
necessary.  Have  you  noticed  our  last  night's 
trail?" 

Rod  rubbed  his  eyes,  thus  confessing  that  as 
yet  he  had  not  been  out  from  between  his  furs. 

"Well,  if  you  go  out  there  in  the  open  for  a 
304 


THE   SURPRISE   AT  THE   POST 

hundred  yards  you  won't  find  it,"  finished  his 
comrade.  "The  snow  has  covered  it  com- 
pletely." 

Although  they  lacked  everything  but  meat, 
this  breakfast  in  the  spruce  thicket  was  one  of 
the  happiest  of  the  entire  trip,  and  when  the 
three  hunters  were  done  each  had  eaten  of  his 
partridge  until  only  the  bones  were  left. 
There  was  now  little  cause  for  fear,  for  it  was 
still  snowing  and  their  enemies  were  twenty- 
five  miles  to  the  north  of  them.  This  fact  did 
not  deter  the  adventurers  from  securing  an 
early  start,  however,  and  they  traveled  south- 
ward through  the  storm  until  noon,  when  they 
built  a  camp  of  spruce  and  made  preparations 
to  rest  until  the  following  day. 

"We  must  be  somewhere  near  the  Kenogami 
trail,"  Wabi  remarked  to  Mukoki.  "We  may 
have  passed  it." 

"No  pass  it,"  replied  Mukoki.  "She  off 
there."  He  pointed  to  the  south. 

"You  see  the  Kenogami  trail  is  a  sled  trail 
leading  from  the  little  town  of  Nipigon,  on 
305 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

the  railroad,  to  Kenogami  House,  which  is  a 
Hudson  Bay  Post  at  the  upper  end  of  Long 
Lake,"  explained  Wabi  to  his  white  com- 
panion. "The  factor  of  Kenogami  is  a  great 
friend  of  ours  and  we  have  visited  back  and 
forth  often,  but  I've  been  over  the  Kenogami 
trail  only  once.  Mukoki  has  traveled  it  many 
times." 

Several  rabbits  were  killed  before  dinner. 
No  other  hunting  was  done  during  the  after- 
noon, most  of  which  was  passed  in  sleep  by  the 
exhausted  adventurers.  When  Rod  awoke  he 
found  that  it  had  stopped  snowing  and  was 
nearly  dark. 

Mukoki's  wound  was  beginning  to  trouble 
him  again,  and  it  was  decided  that  at  least  a 
part  of  the  next  day  should  be  passed  in  camp, 
and  that  both  Rod  and  Wabigoon  should  make 
an  effort  to  kill  some  animal  that  would  fur- 
nish them  with  the  proper  kind  of  oil  to  dress 
it  with,  the  fat  of  almost  any  species  of  animal 
except  mink  or  rabbit  being  valuable  for  this 
purpose.  With  dawn  the  two  started  out,  while 
306 


THE   SURPRISE   AT  THE   POST 

Mukoki,  much  against  his  will,  was  induced  to 
remain  in  camp.  A  short  distance  away  the 
hunters  separated,  Rod  striking  to  the  east- 
ward and  Wabi  into  the  south. 

For  an  hour  Roderick  continued  without 
seeing  game,  though  there  were  plenty  of 
signs  of  deer  and  caribou  about  him.  At  last 
he  determined  to  strike  for  a  ridge  a  mile  to 
the  south,  from  the  top  of  which  he  was  more 
likely  to  get  a  shot  than  in  the  thick  growth 
of  the  plains.  He  had  not  traversed  more  than 
a  half  of  the  distance  when  much  to  his  sur- 
prise he  came  upon  a  well-beaten  trail  run- 
ning slightly  diagonally  with  his  own,  al- 
most due  north.  Two  dog-teams  had  passed 
since  yesterday's  storm,  and  on  either  side  of 
the  sleds  were  the  snow-shoe  trails  of  men 
Rod  saw  that  there  were  three  of  these,  and 
at  least  a  dozen  dogs  in  the  two  teams.  It 
at  once  occurred  to  him  that  this  was  the 
Kenogami  trail,  and  impelled  by  nothing  more 
than  curiosity  he  began  to  follow  it. 

Half  a  mile  farther  on  he  found  where  the 
307 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

party  had  stopped  to  cook  a  meal.  The  re- 
mains of  their  camp-fire  lay  beside  a  huge 
log,  which  was  partly  burned  away,  and  about 
it  were  scattered  bones  and  bits  of  bread.  But 
what  most  attracted  Rod's  attention  were  other 
tracks  which  joined  those  of  the  three  people 
on  snow-shoes.  He  was  sure  that  these  tracks 
had  been  made  by  women,  for  the  footprints 
made  by  one  of  them  were  unusually  small. 
Close  to  the  log  he  found  a  single  impression 
in  the  snow  that  caused  his  heart  to  give  a 
sudden  unexpected  thump  within  him.  In  this 
spot  the  snow  had  been  packed  by  one  of  the 
snow-shoes,  and  in  this  comparatively  hard 
surface  the  footprint  was  clearly  defined.  It 
had  been  made  by  a  moccasin.  Rod  knew  that. 
And  the  moccasin  wore  a  slight  heel !  He  re- 
membered, now,  that  thrilling  day  in  the  for- 
est near  Wabinosh  House  when  he  had 
stopped  to  look  at  Minnetaki's  footprints  in 
the  soft  earth  through  which  she  had  been 
driven  by  her  Woonga  abductors,  and  he  re- 
membered, too,  that  she  was  the  only  person 
308 


THE   SURPRISE   AT  THE   POST 

at  the  Post  who  wore  heels  on  her  moccasins. 
It  was  a  queer  coincidence!  Could  Minne- 
taki  have  been  here?  Had  she  made  that  foot- 
print in  the  snow?  Impossible,  declared  the 
young  hunter's  better  sense.  And  yet  his  blood 
ran  a  little  faster  as  he  touched  the  delicate 
impression  with  his  bare  fingers.  It  reminded 
him  of  Minnetaki,  anyway;  her  foot  would 
have  made  just  such  a  trail,  and  he  wondered 
if  the  girl  who  had  stepped  there  was  as 
pretty  as  she. 

He  followed  now  a  little  faster  than  before, 
and  ten  minutes  later  he  came  to  where  a 
dozen  snow-shoe  trails  had  come  in  from  the 
north  and  had  joined  the  three.  After  meet- 
ing, the  two  parties  had  evidently  joined 
forces  and  had  departed  over  the  trail  made 
by  those  who  had  appeared  from  the  direction 
of  the  Post. 

"Friends  from  Kenogami  House  came  down 

to  meet  them,"  mused  Rod,  and  as  he  turned 

back  in  the  direction  of  the  camp  he  formed  a 

picture  of  that  meeting  in  the  heart  of  the  wil* 

309 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

derness,  of  the  glad  embraces  of  husband  and 
wife,  and  the  joy  of  the  pretty  girl  with  the 
tiny  feet  as  she  kissed  her  father,  and  perhaps 
her  big  brother;  for  no  girl  could  possess  feet 
just  like  Minnetaki's  and  not  be  pretty! 

He  found  that  Wabi  had  preceded  him 
when  he  returned.  The  young  Indian  had 
shot  a  small  doe,  and  that  noon  witnessed  a 
feast  in  camp.  For  his  lack  of  luck  Rod  had 
his  story  to  tell  of  the  people  on  the  trail.  The 
passing  of  this  party  formed  the  chief  topic 
of  conversation  during  the  rest  of  the  day,  for 
after  weeks  of  isolation  in  the  wilderness  even 
this  momentary  nearness  of  living  civilized 
men  and  women  was  a  great  event  to  them. 
But  there  was  one  fact  which  Rod  dwelt  but 
slightly  upon.  He  did  not  emphasize  the  sim- 
ilarity of  the  pretty  footprint  and  that  made 
by  Minnetaki's  moccasin,  for  he  knew  that  a 
betrayal  of  his  knowledge  and  admiration  of 
the  Indian  maiden's  feet  would  furnish  Wabi 
with  fun-making  ammunition  for  a  week.  He 
did  say,  however,  that  the  footprint  in  the 
310 


THE   SURPRISE   AT  THE   POST 

snow  struck  him  as  being  just  about  the  size 
that  Minnetaki  would  make. 

All  that  day  and  night  the  hunters  remained 
in  camp,  sleeping,  eating  and  taking  care  ot 
Mukoki's  wound,  but  the  next  morning  saw 
them  ready  for  their  homeward  journey  with 
the  coming  of  dawn.  They  struck  due  westward 
ttow,  satisfied  that  they  were  well  beyond  the 
range  of  the  outlaw  Woongas. 

As  the  boys  talked  over  their  adventure  on 
the  long  journey  back  toward  the  Post,  Wabi 
thought  with  regret  of  the  moose  head  which 
he  had  left  buried  in  the  "Indian  ice-box,"  and 
even  wished,  for  a  moment,  to  go  home  by  the 
northern  trail,  despite  the  danger  from  the 
hostile  Woongas,  in  order  to  recover  the  valu- 
able antlers.  But  Mukoki  shook  his  head. 

"Woonga  make  good  fight.  What  for  go 
again  into  wolf  trap?" 

And  so  they  reluctantly  gave  up  the  notion 
of  carrying  the  big  head  of  the  bull  moose  back 
to  the  Post. 

A  little  before  noon  of  the  second  day  they 
311 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 

saw  Lake  Nipigon  from  the  top  of  a  hill.  Co- 
lumbus when  he  first  stepped  upon  the  shore 
of  his  newly  discovered  land  was  not  a  whit 
happier  than  Roderick  Drew  when  that  joyous 
youth,  running  out  upon  the  snow-covered  ice, 
attempted  to  turn  a  somersault  with  his  snow- 
shoes  on  I 

Just  over  there,  thought  Rod — just  over 
there — a  hundred  miles  or  so,  is  Minnetaki 
and  the  Post!  Happy  visions  filled  his  mind 
all  that  afternoon  as  they  traveled  across  the 
foot  of  the  lake.  Three  weeks  more  and  he 
would  see  his  mother — and  home.  And  Wabi 
was  going  with  him!  He  seemed  tireless;  his 
spirits  were  never  exhausted;  he  laughed, 
whistled,  even  attempted  to  sing.  He  won- 
rdered  if  Minnetaki  would  be  very  glad  to  see 
him.  He  knew  that  she  would  be  glad — but 
how  glad? 

Two  days  more  were  spent  in  circling  the 

lower  end  of  the  lake.    Then  their  trail  turned 

northward,  and  on  the  second  evening  after 

this,  as  the  cold  red  sun  was  sinking  in  all 

312 


THE  SURPRISE   AT  THE   POST 

that  heatless  glory  of  the  great  North's  day- 
end,  they  came  out  upon  a  forest-clad  ridge 
and  looked  down  upon  the  House  of  Wabi- 
nosh. 

And  as  they  looked — and  as  the  burning 
disk  of  the  sun,  falling  down  and  down  behind 
forest,  mountain  and  plain,  bade  its  last  adieu 
to  the  land  of  the  wild,  there  came  to  them, 
strangely  clear  and  beautiful,  the  notes  of  a 
bugle. 

And  Wabi,  listening,  grew  rigid  with  won- 
der. As  the  last  notes  died  away  the  cheers 
that  had  been  close  to  his  lips  gave  way  to  the 
question,  "What  does  that  mean?" 

"A  bugle!"  said  Rod. 

As  he  spoke  there  came  to  their  ears  the 
heavy,  reverberating  boom  of  a  big  gun. 

"If  I'm  not  mistaken,"  he  added,  "that  is  a 
sunset  salute.  I  didn't  know  you  had — sol- 
diers— at  the  Post!" 

"We  haven't,"  replied  the  Indian  youth. 
"By  George,  what  do  you  suppose  it  means?" 

He  hurried  down  the  ridge,  the  others  close 


THE   WOLF 

behind  him.  Fifteen  minutes  later  they  trailed 
out  into  the  open  near  the  Post.  A  strange 
change  had  occurred  since  Rod  and  his  com- 
panions had  last  seen  Wabinosh  House.  In 
the  open  half  a  dozen  rude  log  shelters  had 
been  erected,  and  about  these  were  scores  of 
soldiers  in  the  uniform  of  his  Majesty,  the 
King  of  England.  Shouts  of  greeting  died  on 
the  hunters'  lips.  They  hastened  to  the  dwell- 
ing of  the  factor,  and  while  Wabi  rushed  in  to 
meet  his  mother  and  father  Rod  cut  across  to 
the  Company's  store.  He  had  often  found 
Minnetaki  there.  But  his  present  hope  was 
shattered,  and  after  looking  in  he  turned  back 
to  the  house.  By  the  time  he  had  reached  the 
steps  a  second  time  the  princess  mother,  with 
Wabi  close  behind  her,  came  out  to  welcome 
him. 

Wabi's  face  was  flushed  with  excitement 
His  eyes  sparkled. 

"Rod,  what  do  you  think!"  he  exclaimed, 
after  his  mother  had  gone  back  to  see  to  the 
preparation  of  their  supper.  "The  govera- 


THE   SURPRISE   AT  THE   POST 

men«?  has  declared  war  on  the  Woongas  and 
has  serft  up  a  company  of  regulars  to  wipe  'em 
out!  Ihey  have  been  murdering  and  robbing 
as  neve*  before  during  the  last  two  months. 
The  regulars  start  after  them  to-morrow!" 

He  was  breathing  hard  and  excitedly. 

"Can't  you  stay — and  join  in  the  cam- 
paign?" he  pleaded. 

"I  can't,"  replied  Rod.  "I  can't,  Wabi; 
I've  got  to  go  home.  You  know  that.  And 
you're  going  with  me.  The  regulars  can  get 
along  without  you  Go  back  to  Detroit  with 
me — and  get  your  /r(other  to  let  Minnetaki  go 
with  us." 

"Not  now,  Rod,"  «*aid  the  Indian  youth,  tak- 
ing his  friend's  hand.  "I  won't  be  able  to 
go — now.  Nor  Min/jetaki  either.  They  have 
been  having  such  desperate  times  here  that 
father  has  sent  her  aw  Ay.  He  wanted  mother 
to  go,  but  she  wouldn't." 

"Sent  Minnetaki  away?"  gasped  Rod. 

"Yes.  She  started  for  Kenogami  House  four 
Hays  ago  in  company  with  an  Indian  woman 


THE   WOLF    HUNTERS 


and  three  guides.  That  was  undoubtedly  their 
trail  you  found." 

"And  the  footprint — " 

"Was  hers,"  laughed  Wabi,  putting  an  arm 
affectionately  around  his  chum's  shoulders. 
"Won't  you  stay,  Rod?" 

"It  is  impossible." 

He  went  to  his  old  room,  and  until  supper- 
time  sat  alone  in  silent  dejection.  Two  great 
disappointments  had  fallen  upon  him.  Wabi 
could  not  go  home  with  him — and  he  had 
missed  Minnetaki.  The  young  girl  had  left  a 
note  in  her  mother's  care  for  him,  and  he  read 
it  again  and  again.  She  had  written  it  be- 
lieving that  she  would  return  to  Wabinosh 
House  before  the  hunters,  but  at  the  end  she 
had  added  a  paragraph  in  which  she  said  that 
if  she  did  not  do  this  Rod  must  make  the  Post 
a  second  visit  very  soon,  and  bring  his  mother 
with  him. 

At  supper  the  princess  mother  several  times 
pressed  Minnetaki's  invitation  upon  the  young 


THE   SURPRISE   AT   THE   POST 

hunter.  She  read  to  him  parts  of  certain 
letters  which  she  had  received  from  Mrs. 
Drew  during  the  winter,  and  Rod  was  over- 
joyed to  find  that  his  mother  was  not  only  in, 
good  health,  but  that  she  had  given  her  prom- 
ise to  visit  Wabinosh  House  the  following 
summer.  Wabi  broke  all  table  etiquette  by 
giving  vent  to  a  warlike  whoop  of  joy  at  this 
announcement,  and  once  more  Rod's  spirits 
rose  high  above  his  temporary  disappoint- 
ments. 

That  night  the  furs  were  appraised  and  pur- 
chased by  the  factor  for  his  Company,  and 
Rod's  share,  including  his  third  of  the  gold, 
was  nearly  seven  hundred  dollars.  The  next 
morning  the  bi-monthly  sled  party  was  leav- 
ing for  civilization,  and  he  prepared  to  go 
with  it,  after  writing  a  long  letter  to  Minne- 
taki,  which  was  to  be  carried  to  her  by  the 
faithful  Mukoki.  Most  of  that  night  Wabi 
and  his  friend  sat  up  and  talked,  and  made 
plans.  It  was  believed  that  the  campaign 


THE   WOLF   HUNTERS 

against  the  Woongas  would  be  a  short  and  de- 
cisive one.  By  spring  all  trouble  would  be 
over. 

"And  you'll  come  back  as  soon  as  you  can?" 
pleaded  Wabi  for  the  hundredth  time.  "You'll 
come  back  by  the  time  the  ice  breaks  up?" 

"If  I  am  alive !"  pledged  the  city  youth. 

"And  you'll  bring  your  mother?" 

"She  has  promised." 

"And  then— for  the  gold!" 

"For  the  gold!" 

Wabi  held  out  his  hand  and  the  two  gripped 
heartily. 

"And  Minnetaki  will  be  here  then — I  swear 
it!"  said  the  Indian  youth,  laughing. 

Rod  blushed. 

And  that  night  alone  he  slipped  quietly  out 
into  the  still,  white  night;  and  he  looked,  long- 
ingly, far  into  the  southeast  where  he  had 
found  the  footprint  in  the  snow;  and  he  turned 
to  the  north,  and  the  east,  and  the  west,  an/J 
lastly  to  the  south,  and  his  eyes  seemed  to* 
travel  through  the  distance  of  a  thousand  miles 
318 


THE   SURPRISE   AT  THE   POST 

to  where  a  home  and  a  mother  lay  sleeping 
in  a  great  city.  And  as  he  turned  back  to  the 
House  of  Wabinosh,  where  all  the  lights  were 
out,  he  spoke  softly  to  himself: 

"It's  home — to-morrow!" 

And  then  he  added: 

"But  you  bet  I'll  be  back  by  the  time  the  ice 
breaks  up!" 


THE  END 


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